


Underneath One Crown

by Pure_oblivion



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Harley Quinn (Comics), Poison Ivy (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Drama, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Harleen Quinzel Needs a Hug, Joker (DCU) Has Issues, Kings & Queens, Pamela Isley Loves Harleen Quinzel, Slow Burn, Violence, basically we have castles and everything, pamela is a princess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24197722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pure_oblivion/pseuds/Pure_oblivion
Summary: Princess Pamela Isley has everything a common girl wishes to have; a beautiful home, a Kingdom, and riches. But one thing remains missing. A suitor. Just when Pamela decides that she will spend the remainder of her life alone, Harleen Quinzel, a simple girl with nothing to lose, comes along to prove her wrong.A story of forbidden love.OR A medieval fic
Relationships: Pamela Isley & Harleen Quinzel, Pamela Isley & Selina Kyle & Harleen Quinzel, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 64
Kudos: 142





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you know I was writing a college AU, but my motivation has suddenly evaporated into the air. So I'm writing this now, apologies for my inconsistency :( I have issues. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope I can write this like I intend to, and hopefully you all enjoy :) As always, here's the reminder that I'm new to DC, so forgive any errors, thanks!

Pamela Isley gazed out the window alone, her emerald eyes colliding with the sun for the hundredth time that afternoon. The silence of the kingdom was eerie as it was unusual for it to be that quiet, even on the grounds of the castle. Numerous guards were spread across the vast area, all armoured up to the neck in protective iron gear. Pam assumed the silence would ensue, which would have been fortunate, but a solid knock against the wooden door of her spacious bedroom reassured her that stillness never lasted for long. 

“Come in,” She instructed calmly, her tone quiet. The door creaked open before he stepped inside, a still smile spreading across his features. Pam knew he was trying to make her feel lighter, but even his beam couldn’t ease the continuous churn of her stomach. 

“The King and Queen requested your presence, Princess,” He announced while shifting from one foot to the other heavily in an uneasy manner as if though sensing her anxiety. 

Pamela nodded, “Thank you, Bruce,” She sighed and stared out at the sun for the final time, noting that it was almost time. Fixing her locks yet again, Pamela then rose from the cushioned chair and neared towards the man, who pulled the door open for her kindly, his smile dissolving this time, “The public has been strangely quiet.” 

Nodding, Bruce closed the door behind him and followed, “Yes, your Highness. I think they came to realize that protesting has become pointless.” 

Pamela hummed for a moment, wondering how to reply to such statement correctly. As she tightened her grip on the railing of the curved stairs, her feet turned back to him, her face just inches away from his puff chest, “Protesting helped them get their point across, Sir Bruce. But yes, that is all it can do. Now, patience is virtue as my family delivers the statement.” 

“Do you know what the statement entails, your Highness?” Bruce wondered, clearly not informed by the King on what to expect, which didn’t surprise Pamela much. Her father was a secretive man, only working with those closest to him. Even Pam wasn’t considered close, so she shook her head. 

“No, he did not tell me,” She admitted, “It seems like women are restricted from entering the field of such issues.” 

As Pam turned around to finish venturing down the steps, she could hear Bruce release a disappointed sigh, “Which isn’t fair, in my opinion.” 

Discretely, Pam grinned, though stifled the expression as soon as she reached the bottom floor, “Your opinion doesn’t matter,” She told, although it wasn’t supposed to come across that harshly. Pam cringed a moment later and didn’t turn around, not wanting to witness the possible hurt on Bruce’s face which she was certain she’d find. 

“You’re right,” He then breathed out a moment later and Pam felt obliged to nod again. 

“You’re one of the only men I have ever respected,” She told him, “I pray that makes you feel better about your position.” 

Bruce chuckled as they ventured out into the main hall, “It certainly does, your Highness.” 

“Good, I’m pleased to hear that,” Her eyes shot from one end of the hall to the other quickly as she scanned the space in attempts to catch a glimpse of her brother, who was definitely informed on these matters regarding the public. Though Pamela doubted that he would share such information, especially with her. Frowning at the realization, she ultimately gave up her search and instead turned back to the knight, “Do you suppose the King and Queen are already there?” 

Bruce shook his head, staring straight past Pamela, “No, they are right behind you, your Highness.” 

_Oh._

“Right, of course,” Turning on her heel, Pam observed as Jack marched down the hall alongside their father, his legs carrying him way too quickly, it seemed, because he almost slipped up and hit the marble floor. 

Pamela kept her eyes fixated on the ceiling, sparing him from the embarrassment that was bound to ensue had he known she was staring. Jack was quick to appear from behind her, his stiff hand bracing against her back as he led them towards the guarded door. 

“Sister, dearest, you ready for this?” He snarled into her ear, though somehow even through the chilly tone, the smile never faltered from his face. 

“I don’t know, Jack, should I be? Considering that I have been left in the dark about today’s speech, I can’t possibly tell what I should be ready for,” She told him simply and finally, he let her go so that he could march across the grounds faster. 

“Be ready for the public to calm,” Jack responded with a satisfied smile before catching up to their father, who was fixing his best attire by flattening each and every corner. Pam could hear him mumbling about something, and though she couldn’t possibly hear the exact words, she was almost certain that he was scowling about the awful state of the maid’s effort that morning. 

“Where’s mother?” Pam then questioned as more guards began to surround them the nearer they stepped towards the main gate. Her question had gone unheard--ignored, Pamela was sure, but she then understood why. Within a few more steps, the rough growling of the people outside the walls of the castle began to sound. So they weren’t as quiet as she’d suspected them to be, that was evident. 

“They’re angry,” Pam whispered to Bruce, who had his hand resting against the butt of his sword.

“They are, but I remain certain his Majesty has found a way,” He offered in attempts to reassure, though Pam remained doubtful. How could she not? They were dealing with mass starvation on the other side of the walls. People were dying, women, men, adults and children…Everyone was being claimed by death, it spared no-one. 

“I pray so,” Pam breathed out and came to a stop beside Jack, who was eagerly waiting for the gates to be pulled open. He didn’t seem apprehensive or uneasy, no, Jack appeared excited. Pamela didn’t know how to really take that. Her brother was a complex individual with needs very different from her own. They were polar opposites, forming more disagreements than anyone else she had the pleasure or displeasure of knowing. And so seeing the grin on his face didn’t come across as soothing, instead, her stomach dropped further than it possibly could. 

The clatter of chains was the next sound her ears picked up on, and the people behind the wall grew louder, spewing screams while the others cheered. Clearly, this emergency had formed a divisive public, which was understandable, and their steps in fixing this remained more essential. 

Pam hadn’t noticed the slight slouch in her posture before Bruce had the pleasure of reminding her generously, “You need to remain collected, your Highness,” He spoke firmly. Nodding, she straightened her stiff back just as the gates had been pulled down all the way. 

Despite the bright sun, her eyes analysed whatever surroundings they could before she was led onto the wooden platform in preparation to the announcement. Countless of guards surrounded the scene, many of them with their swords drawn, while the front-line stood with their shields up, shoving away those who attempted to step any closer than what was permitted. 

King Arthur stood higher than the rest and all it took was a single hand raise for the public to settle. Not all of them complied, of course, as Pam couldn’t miss the slight shoving from the guards, but it was quiet enough for her father to proceed. 

“You liars!” A manly voice yelled deep from within the crowd. And that was all it took for the pushing and tugging to start again. A rigid hand had wrapped itself around her arm and Pam quickly turned to find its owner, which was thankfully Bruce. He jerked her back gently, far enough from the sneering of the common people. 

“Better safe than sorry,” He explained and she couldn’t argue against that.

“Give us what we need!” 

“Yeah!” 

“Ya lied, didn’t ya?” A child-like, feminine voice emerged from within the crowd, and that was the last sentence Pam heard before a heavy bell was sounded to get everyone to settle. For a moment, it didn’t work, but once The King appeared to stare back at the castle gates with the indication that he was to leave, the crowd composed. The Royals were their only hope, that was crystal clear. 

“I ask for silence and attention,” Arthur Isley warned, his voice deep and sinister, and it was enough to have Pam looking around the crowd, noticing that majority of the trouble-causers had settled in their shoes. The presence of a spokesperson wasn’t required, it seemed, because her farther didn’t waste time in diving head first into the nations issue. 

“My people,” He began with a sharp inhale, his sharp brows furrowing further, “Do not turn this nation into a crowd of fools through this hysteria, because this Kingdom doesn’t require fools. They live and belong outside these walls, and these walls keep you safe,” Arthur made a dramatic pause, “I will lead us out of this. I will feed the empty mouths, I will provide water to those thirsty, and I will do this at the earliest dawn. When the sun rises tomorrow and the warmth graces us all, you will be filled. My people will eat, the men will drink, and the women will have their hands on long absent meals. That is a promise, and I am no King if I don’t intend on keeping it.” 

The shuffling of the crowd had stopped, and any sound of resistance had died down in their throats, it seemed. 

“I stand before you now, the men, the women, and the children, promising you that you will eat. Empty mouths die tomorrow, rest assured. I am a man of my word.” Arthur finished, and with that, everyone broke out into a division again. Opinionated words were spat from many mouths, Pam tried not to look at any of these faces. 

“The boats will be here by midnight.” Jack announced into her ear as they were ushered back behind the walls of the castle, Bruce standing right behind her on full alert, “The people have themselves to blame, setting fire to the crops…” He scoffed loudly with a roll of his eyes. 

Pam could still recall how the fields burned, how the ashes rested alongside most of the pathways. The sky had been grey that evening from the smoke, the sun had almost completely dissolved then. She hadn’t been allowed out to see the extent of the full damage, but the smell alone suggested that it had been bad. The crop fields were quite the distance away from the castle, and the stench was sharp, and Pam could remember shaking her head in attempts not to think about the beautiful patches of grass that were surely destroyed. Safe to say, such destruction and mayhem led to three executions that day.

“Those traitors were unhappy with father’s leadership strategies,” Jack reminded with a chuckle, somehow finding the amusement in this, which wasn’t unusual, “Got what they deserved, huh, Pammy?” 

Pam felt herself shudder under his gaze, “Of course,” 

“Glad we agree,” Wiping the smirk off his face, Jack slowed down so that she could settle well within his pace, “The people will be fed, rest assured, sister. I know you worry about these things.” 

“They went without a proper food source for two weeks, I think a true leader should have a rise in concern,” Pam told him and Jack stared at her. 

That was all he did for a solid minute before breaking out into a laugh. His hand moved to wipe a fake tear that had ‘ran’ down his cheek, “A leader? I sense the confidence in you that should not be present.” 

“That is not what I meant,” She argued back with an icy bite to her tone. 

“You will remain a Princess, and the titles above you won’t be any of your concern, remember that,” Jack snarled, “I’m the next heir to the throne, and this Kingdom will flourish under my control like it does under father’s. Do not break a worried sweat.” 

She made the quick decision to spare Jack from her words by turning to the side, settling on the longer walk to her bedroom, but at least she wouldn’t have to endure his plagued presence for another minute. Bruce followed suit, Pam knew it, because the sound of his heavy armour followed the man everywhere. Sometimes, it was distracting, and she had half the mind to demand he stopped following her. 

But Bruce was always kind with his words. Wise, as well, if Pam had to describe further. She didn’t say a thing, allowing him to stay with her until they reached the upstairs. The silence prevailed until Pam had reached for the door of her bedroom, tugging it open and stepping inside. 

She had nothing to say to the man, apart from another demand because the dress had begun to feel incredibly tight around her thin waist, “Tell Selina to see me, I need this garment off.” 

“I’m on it, your Highness,” Bruce bowed a little before disappearing behind the door. She heard him clatter down the steps, the iron armour acting as an announcer to his presence at all times. Pam released an audible sigh. She was eager to clear her head, but Jack’s words were etched into the depths of her mind and shaking them off was near impossible. 

Yes, she was a woman, and Pam hated it. 

She didn’t despite who she was. Never. 

But she loathed the reputation that came with being a woman. 

All those labels of weakness, the assumptions of the lack of power…it was ridiculous, and it had irritated her for as long as she could recall. 

Being a man shouldn’t elevate one above a woman…simply because she was a woman. 

“What a foolish perception,” Pam spoke to herself, her words true and eager. Women were powerful, some even ruled Kingdoms better than the men ever could. They promoted logical policies, it was in numerous books, but Jack apparently never saw that. Scoffing, Pam pictured herself with her hands around his slender neck, squeezing until he admitted that women could do exactly what men could. 

“Brainless man,” She spoke again and flinched, only now noticing the knock against her door, “Do come in, Selina.” 

She’d guessed right. Selina emerged from the hallway with a messy head of hair, both tangled and greasy. Although the woman’s hair was short, Pam could think of numerous ways to style it. 

It appeared that the woman noticed Pam’s strange look since she began to shake her head almost shamefully, embarrassment coating her bright cheeks, “We ran out of soap, your Highness,” She told, which had the redhead immediately frowning. 

“Pamela is just fine, you have been made aware of that.”

Selina was the closest thing Pam had to a friend, and dare she even say family. Despite their obvious differentiating positions, the strong dynamic of power didn’t stop them from communicating less than what was deemed appropriate. Selina had been by her side ever since was just thirteen, and five years later, they were still connected, having formed a tight bond with one another. 

“How can I assist you, your Majesty?” She bowed down playfully, which had Pam rolling her eyes in annoyance. 

“If you insist on finding out, then I need your help in slipping out of this dress. The corset is terribly tight,” Pam had positioned herself in front of the mirror, watching as Selina nodded and began to reach for the numerous buttons. Usually, such a process required more than one pair of hands, but Selina was skilled, reassuring everyone that she could handle the Princess alone. 

Pam preferred it that way. Trusting others was a difficult job for any royal, and Pam hated to be naive. That would give Jack all the more reason to taunt her, like his current and upcoming status wasn’t enough to get his tongue rolling against her whenever he saw fit. 

Apparently having noticed Pam’s distracted expression, Selina pushed against her back to snap her out of it, “How was the speech?” 

Ah, right. Selina had remained at the castle after completing her duties and was still in the dark about their current situation. 

“It was…fine, I suppose,” Pam knew she sounded doubtful, but she wasn’t about to attempt to mask the uncertainty of their situation, “Father assured that the ships with the supplies were coming.” 

How much of that was true was uncertain. The King had delivered a very similar speech just a couple of days before, promising that the supplies were to arrive. But it seemed like the Kingdom was still waiting--starving, was the more fitting term, Pam concluded. 

“Isn’t that what was said a few mornings ago?” Selina questioned as if reading the thoughts clouded deep within Pam’s head. 

“Exactly, Selina. So it’s fair to say the people have their doubts,” Pam gasped as Selina tore one of the buttons too roughly, her entire body jerking backwards into the woman. 

“I’m sorry! That was not meant to happen. I think you will be in need of a replacement,” She sighed after carefully examining the button, which was hanging onto the cloth by a single thread. Definite replacement, it appeared. 

“Don’t worry, it was getting rather old anyway.” 

Selina shrugged, “Shame, it was pretty.” 

“It was my mother’s, and speaking of, have you seen her?” Pam shifted a little uncomfortably, Lillian’s absence finally taking a toll on her. She hadn’t seen the woman since last night, and though she appeared in good shape then, life had the common instinct to throw things at people that could be rather harsh.

And Pamela Isley was no stranger to the roughness of life. It followed her religiously, which sometimes had her wondering if she was a force that attracted all bad things that hung in the air. Or maybe, it was just the misfortune, maybe someone had cursed her at birth, which was silly, but had anyone known her thoughts, Pam was certain she’d be accused of witchcraft. 

Once the dress was tugged into a much looser setting, Selina shook her head, “No, I haven’t seen her Majesty. I’m sure she’s in good health.” 

Pamela nodded, “I hope so. We do not need another unfortunate accident on our hands during such time.” 

Despite Selina standing behind her, Pam could sense the subtle scrunch of her face, “Isn’t that a little awful to say, Pam?” 

Shrugging, she sighed, “It certainly is, but she’s an awful woman.” 

“Careful, don’t let the rest hear you.” The servant suggested as she removed the final strands from Pamela’s attire. 

“Mhm, you’re right. My lips rest sealed.” 

Eventually, Selina managed to untangle her hands from the corset and free Pam’s figure from its tight clutches. For the first time in hours, Pam felt like she could breathe again, the material no longer restricting her appropriate structure. 

“I still don’t understand why you wear those things,” Selina held up the corset a little higher, “You already have the desired shape.” 

With most men commenting on it, Pamela found it difficult to disagree. She wasn’t a stranger to compliments or gleaming looks, one’s that practically said ‘I want you’, but wordlessly, of course. Yet something about agreeing with the said statement felt off. The redhead wasn’t arrogant, not at all times, anyway. Instead, she’d decided to settle on something neutral as to not feed her ego while also not allowing Selina to pester her with more compliments, which the woman was always bound to do had Pam denied her beauty. 

“I’d like to think so,” She told her, “But there is no such thing as perfect, Selina.” 

“Desired was what I said,” Selina corrected, “But you’re perfect, I will not deny that. Such a beautiful woman, still all alone. Any suitors?” 

Pam paused briefly and turned around, making sure to clamp down on the thin material that was covering her skin, “No, Selina. And if I was to be honest with you, I’d tell you that I don’t think I know what love is.” 

“Thank you for being honest,” She chuckled slightly, which had Pamela doing the same. 

“You’re excused,” Pam turned away as Selina reached for the door handle, “Wait for a moment. Have you seen my ring--it was laying around here somewhere, I’m certain.” 

Squinting her eyes, the raven haired woman shook her head in denial, “No, I can help you search if I must.” 

Pam waved her off, deciding that struggling with the corset and other parts of her attire was enough to tire anyone out, “That’s okay, I’m sure I left it here somewhere.” 

With that, Selina exited the room, leaving Pamela all alone again, searching for a golden ring in all corners of her spacious room. 

//

As soon as she returned from the public gathering, she sneaked inside using the front door. Although she had anticipated that it would be a costly mistake, the fear didn’t stop her. Just when she’d stepped into the kitchen, an older, feminine voice called out her name in a way that could only be described as ‘disappointment’. 

“Harleen, I told ya to stay home!” Sharon scolded, shaking her finger up and down as if though that would help her reinforce the words. 

“Ma, they’re lyin’ to us. I wanted to hear the speech so I went--and guess what, they said the same thing that they told us days ago.” 

“The ships are comin’?” Sharon guessed while wiping away at the solid, wooden table, her hand avoiding the candles which were their only sources of light. 

Nodding, Harleen huffed, though she felt proud of her mother for also calling out their lying mouths in a way, “I don’t believe a word of it.” 

“We have a few pieces of bread. That will only last us a day, tonight’s supper when Pa returns,” Her mother told and Harley could barely listen to it. So childishly, she clamped her palms over her ears and turned away, sighing loudly for Sharon to hear. She wasn’t seeking comfort. What Harley was looking for was a little more food. Rationing their stale bread had become extremely exhausting, and her stomach was making noises it had never made before, which was fascinating, but also bothersome. 

_Feeling_ hungry was the worst part, though. At least for Harleen. She was an eighteen year old woman who liked to eat, who enjoyed a full stomach above all other holy things. Feeling full was the most beautiful thing this world had to offer, she was sure of it. And now, even that had been ripped away. 

Despite it, she was still smiling, a pearly grin etched into her features as Sharon tossed a broom her way before motioning towards the outdoors, “I want the path cleaned until it sparkles.” 

“Ya wish,” Harley stuck out her tongue and left her mother to her own duties. The heat, alongside the hunger, was unbearable. If her legs weren’t wrapped up in the longest, most annoying dress she owned, then maybe cleaning would be easier and much more enjoyable. But that wasn’t the case. Instead, her thighs collied with the light material of her dress as she worked the broom in a vigorous pattern, swinging it from one end to the other, repeating the process until the dust had scattered itself elsewhere. 

Harley would have continued to stare at the castle from afar, but grunts of struggling caused her eyes to perk up, searching for any more injury on Barry. 

“Any luck?” She asked hopefully, but the boy shook his head.

“Nobody wants half a man,” He grumbled and tightened his grip on the wooden stick before carrying himself inside, one of his legs dragging way back behind the other. 

“That’s why ya shoulda been careful,” Her voice and message didn’t reach him though, because the door was slammed right in her face, “Ouch.” Harley jogged after him not long after, but she had been considerate enough to slow down, not wanting to flaunt Barry with the efficient use of her legs. 

“Ya know the Queen was missin’ today,” She pounced around the table, eyes fixated on something that Sharon was stirring in the metal pot, “Do ya think she’s dead?” 

“Harleen!” Sharon yelled over the sound of the stirring, ensuring she stopped immediately so that she could turn to her daughter with a threatening frown, “You don’t say that.” 

“Why?” That was a genuine question, followed up with a genuine suggestion, “It’s not like they can hear us.” 

“What if they can? His Majesty isn’t merciful. Those three men lost their heads without so much as a thought.” Barry welcomed himself to the conversation. 

“They burned our crops,” Harley whacked him lightly, “That’s a very good reason.” That was also why the Kingdom was starving, each of her neighbours skinnier than they had been before. Harley was horrified to look at them as the women looked like skeletal remains that belonged under the dirt. Sharon was always nice enough to reassure Harley that she was still full, both in the face and the flesh. But Barry never held the same kindness, which was fine, Harley decided. 

She didn’t need to listen to what he thought. The boy had half a working body, ha! While Harley was fully functioning. So who was truly on the losing side. 

Ultimately, Barry decided to give up, because truth be told, Harley was on the more profound side of the discussion. 

Somehow, even the scent of stale bread began to smell appealing as Harley watched the sun disappear, “Is Pa still scammin’ people?” She felt like it had been urgent to ask, especially when her stomach began to churn and the smell of warm soup filled their tiny home. Starting supper without him wasn’t an option, and if Harley was to argue about that, she couldn’t win anyway. She’d learned that the hard way. 

“He’s _workin’_.” 

She’d clamped a hand over her mouth to still the laugh before it could begin to leave her throat, “Work? Oh, Ma, he’s such a wonderful labourer, doin’ everythin’ he can to provide.” 

“Don’t act that way,” Sharon scolded yet again, Harley already giving up on counting the amount of times that had happened, “Your father is the one who keeps this table full.” 

For a moment, she stared at the table. 

The _empty_ table, but Sharon’s glance offered her a word of advice, which told her not to continue with the chatter any further. 

Before another opinionated word could leave anyone, the heavy door burst open and in came Nicholas, his skin and attire clammy from the humid heat. Fortunately, Harley had brought a hefty bucket of water home from the town’s well mere hours ago. Meaning the man wouldn’t have to stink like he did for the remainder of the night, which was always considered to be a blessing. 

“Let’s eat,” Sharon urged them to gather around the small table, all of them sinking into the chairs in unison. 

Nicholas didn’t utter a word as he immediately reached for the biggest piece of bread to devour with the soup. Harley stared, one part of her disgusted while the other remained curious just how a man like him managed to find a woman. And then have children. Sometimes, her mother deserved a lot more than she received, all because she had to endure Nick’s presence for years, Harley thought. 

Luckily, by the time her father’s eyes gazed up at her, Harley was already eating, her own vision fixated to a place further away from him. Quinzel. 

Nicholas Quinzel. 

He had tainted the name he’d created. Rumours spread around the Kingdom fast like a wildfire, and for a long time, Harley was ashamed to step a foot outside. Because of him, struggle followed them suit. Nobody wanted to give work to the daughter of a thief or a pickpocket, whatever phrase they chose to call him wasn’t any of Harleen’s business. She’d rather no think about it at all. 

But of course, she’d had to. She had to listen to numerous rejections, to people yanking her away in fear that she was just like him, a petty thief who used all the immoral methods to make a pretty penny. 

Harley felt her fingers squeezing the spoon tighter, almost strong enough to bend it. Quickly, she dropped it back into the soup after having decided that ruining property was the worst option she could possibly pick. Afterall, nobody wanted to accept work from Nicholas’ daughter. 

Supper went by fast after she’d dunked the spoon in the liquid. Harley cleared up her bowl and stared down to its bottom to reassure herself that no drop was left. She lifted the bowl above her face for good measure, half expecting some droplets of soup to come rushing down onto her tongue. But none came.

The King’s announcement was the only thing that kept her going. This was the final straw, it couldn’t be another false statement. Sure, the Royals were liars. They didn’t care about the peasants, the common people like herself. 

Harley was a young woman, the same age as Princess Isley, and that was about the only similarity they shared. Despite knowing that, it was often that Harleen liked to compare herself to the stunning redhead. 

Reason being? She wasn’t entirely sure herself.

Maybe it was because she would have liked to have a go at living Pamela’s life? Harley had only witnessed her from afar, but even from a distance, her beauty was undeniable, leaving the blonde to wonder what it felt like to have everything one wanted.

Harley didn’t doubt it for a second that Pamela had everything she craved. She was a Princess, and those sort of entities always had happy endings, all the books said that. Every single one that Ma read to her when she was just a little girl.

It seemed that all Pamela lacked was a Prince. 

That’s how all the happy stories ended anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is throwing sm shit at me :') But anyway, stan Harlivy

Furious knocking on the door had Harley jolting awake, her eyes first noticing the bed across her own that belonged to Barry, and then the other bed to the side that was shared between her parents. Despite the sound growing more frantic, none of them budged, so Harley eased herself up and limped sleepily over to the door, tugging it open. 

“The boats are here!” Eddie yelled over the numerous footsteps, which all ran towards the direction of the port. 

“I thought it was an emergency,” Harley rubbed her eyes again, although she came to realize that this was an emergency. The King didn’t lie, the food--the supplies, everything they’ve lacked for two weeks was here. She turned back to the house, sticking her head inside briefly, “Ma! The ships came!” 

Nothing. Silence greeted her again, and in a way Harley was thankful. There would be no bickering between them if she went alone. 

“What do ya say, Ed? Walk with me?” 

“You knew I was going to propose that,” He smirked and began to lead the way. He’d jerked Harley to the side of the pathway, being cautious of the crowds running towards the docked shipment. The People were careless and reckless in times like these, Harley concluded, but at least Edward had some sense in him. 

He was an intelligent boy, always had been. 

And today was no different. 

He walked in peace, soaking up the sunshine and the squawking of seagulls as they approached the port. 

“We best line up just there,” Harley watched as he pointed towards the shorter queue. As she mentioned before, he was a smart man, though born into unfortunate circumstances. She stuck right behind him the entire time, trusting his tall frame to navigate through the swarm of bodies that surrounded them. 

“What do ya think they have?” She was looking at the crates. One for one household, it seemed. 

Edward shrugged, “Food,” He guessed and Harley pouted. 

“Yeah, I was requestin’ the specifics.” 

She tried to peer into the crates by squinting so hard, her vision began to blur. Eventually, she decided to give up as they were approaching the end of the line anyway. With each step, her hands and fingers began to twitch, limbs aching to hold a crate of her own before brining it home. When it was placed into her hands, the weight was significant, it almost tipped Harley over as she’d been preparing for a much lighter box in comparison to what she held. 

“All is good, Eddie,” She vocalized joyfully, and in that moment, Harley was definite that nothing could wipe her grin away.  
Edward was smiling too, and although he attempted to remain composed, his excitement was very much so apparent. Momentarily, she glanced around the cramped space, before her eyes locked with a pair of emerald orbs that hid beneath a dark hood. The distinctively small figure rotated around, keeping their head down further. 

There was only one pair of eyes in this Kingdom that were as prominent as the ones Harley just gazed at. Emerald and glossy, deep in richness with an undertone of innocence. Despite herself, the blonde perked her head up, but the hooded figure had vanished into the crowd, clearly having come prepared to be gone unnoticed. Strange, she thought with a shrug before deciding not to dwell on it any further. After all, she had a crate to take home. 

“Something got your eye?” Eddie questioned.

Harleen shook her head, “Everythin’ catches my eye these days, Ed.” 

She wasn’t wrong, nor had she been lying to him. Eddie shrugged, whether it was in agreement or uncertainty, Harley couldn’t be sure. She simply smiled at him as he offered to push his way past the crowd for her, holding onto her arm as he did so. 

“What would I do without ya?” Harley’s voice was low, laced with a teasing tone that only Edward could decipher as a joke. 

“Everything and anything,” He reassured, a little louder this time as the chatter became more ponderous, “You can do anything you want, kid.” 

Harley laughed gleefully, “Even live in a castle like the Princess?” 

“Not all things are possible, I must say. But one can dream, that’s when things are limitless.” 

“I dream a lot, Eddie, and let me tell ya about the dreams I have,” Harley was about to begin, but the boy shook his head frantically. He would’ve clamped his hands over his ears had it not been for the crate he was holding. 

“No, no, don’t do that.” 

Pouting, Harley shrugged, “Well, yer going to regret not hearin’ what I dream about.” 

“You had the strangest of dreams as a child,” Eddie reminded, Harley suddenly recalling how she’d share the stories sleep brought her without a seconds hesitation, “I don’t want to curse my ears anymore. They’ll call you a witch.” 

“Let them,” She brushed him off, though he was sudden to argue back to raise a righteous point. 

“And burn you on a spike? What kind of friend would I be if I allowed that?” 

But Harley wasn’t listening, instead, all of her focus shifted to her eyes as she’d fixated on the hooded figure again. The individual possessed a small frame, and Harley could make out the curve of her waist even through the heavy, dark garment. It was a woman, she came to realize. The closer they approached the person, the more feminine she appeared to become. 

“Who is that?” She whispered into Edward's ear by drawing him in closer. 

He looked at the hood for a minute, then two. Eventually, all Ed could offer was a half-bothered shrug, “Hell, if only I knew. I’m assuming it’s a lady.” 

“A lady with green eyes,” Harley told him. 

“There are many ladies with green eyes.” 

Fair, yes, he was right. But not _those_ kind of green eyes. 

There was only one pair in the entire Kingdom of Gotham, and they belonged to Princess Pamela Isley. But what would she be doing here on this dirty soil? Harley ached to get closer, but the rows of people rushing past made it difficult to take more than two big steps at a time. 

“Ed, let me tell you somethin’,” Without warning, Harley shoved her crate on top of his own, his shoulders immediately faltering at the extra weight, “Ya get this to my Ma, okay?” 

He nodded, though did so hesitantly, “Where are you going?” 

“Followin’ a woman,” She explained quickly and didn’t stick around to hear another hoard of questions coming from him. Harley turned around briefly to offer him a grateful look before setting a quicker pace in order to stay on the heels of the hooded figure. Step after step, Harley made sure to remain close while also keeping some distance as to not raise any alarms. It was a hot day, the air was dry and suffocating, so no sane person who wasn’t important would wear such a heavy cloak. 

Her feet came to an immediate halt when the hooded figure took a sharp corner, disappearing from her line of sight. She’d hesitated, glancing at the street again, her breath growing more heavy and ragged by the second. 

The last time she had set foot there, Harley barely made it out alive. It was a street filled with fools and the towns least respected individuals. A place where Nicholas certainly belonged but didn’t attend. Unfortunate. 

_Stop gettin’ distracted._

But why was the woman, who appeared rather frail and inexperienced, wandering there for? Didn’t she know of the dangers that hid there? Or did she just decide to ignore every warning sign? Harley didn’t want to stick around to find out, the sane part of her mind already had her feet shuffling backwards and away from the space. 

She could only hope that such luck would visit her next time. 

Turning around from the dim alleyway, Harley was ready to begin her walk home. But the stillness and silence of the air was ripped apart by a deafening scream. It had Harley circling around immediately, and even with the dangers that lurked there, she dove straight for the alleyway, her limp hands forming into fists, readying for a confrontation. 

She wasn’t sure what the sight in front of her would be. But the first thing her blue eyes noticed was a brittle figure--the woman, pushed onto her back by someone much larger. She screamed and trashed while the man reached for the hood in such a way, it appeared like he was uncovering a box of secrets. 

“No!” She shrieked, the sound alone making Harley shake in her shoes. Before the beefy man could press his palms into hers, the girl clawed at his face, her nails leaving a massive cut spreading from his eye to the cheek. 

That was when all hell broke loose. 

“You whore!” He spat and drew his hand back, only to force it back down directly against her face. Her throat emitted a ragged cry once her head cranked to the side from the force of the blow, and suddenly, Harley’s legs began moving, the better part of her ignoring all the consequences that could follow. 

She wrapped a strong arm around the man’s neck and pulled. Pulled with closed eyes until she felt him stumbling back against her own body. 

Harley crashed on her back for starters, letting him go in order to catch herself and avoid a rougher fall. 

“What in god’s name are you doing?” He demanded abruptly before reaching for her throat. But Harley saw it coming and had enough time to duck, which seemed to frustrate him more. The bulky stranger yelled a bunch of profanities and aimed for her face with a firm fist. In that moment, Harley shut her eyes incredibly tight until she began seeing stars. She had expected the contact--hard and fast-- but it never came. 

“Get off me! I will gut you both!” 

Bravely, she reopened her eyes to soak up the scene before her. 

The woman--Harley noticed that she was a redhead since a few strands of hair had managed to flee from beneath the hood. She was on top of the man now, their roles suddenly shifting as she came to Harleen’s defence instead. 

The blonde didn’t remain seated on the ground for long. She hopped on her feet and ran straight toward them, knocking her entire body weight into the man’s back, the blow powerful enough to have him stumbling face first into the stone path. 

Harley wasn’t sure what kept him on the ground for so long but she wasn’t intent on finding out. Her hand wrapped itself around the woman’s waist and she began to tug her to the other end of the alley. The redhead followed in silence, appearing collected at first, but it wasn’t long before Harleen felt her back tightening beneath her palm. 

They emerged from the shadows and the sunshine greeted them. Harley couldn’t recall the last time she was that thankful to see the sun. 

“What did ya think goin’ in there all by yerself?” Her first instinct was to scold, greatly resembling Sharon, even with her stance. Her back was slouched, whether it was from the exhaustion or anxiety, Harley wasn’t sure.  
The emerald eyed figure remained with her back turned to Harley, and the blonde was beginning to turn sour. How could she not? Her face had almost been torn to shreds by a stranger man. Harley could’ve had a one way trip to the afterlife for all she knew. And not even a thank you? How ill-mannered. 

“Thank you for your assistance when I most needed it.” 

Oh. 

There was something unnatural about the woman’s tone. Such a petite figure with a deep voice like that…it was rather off. Harley stared, her mouth slightly agape. 

“Ya sound like that?” She stepped a little closer, “Can I see the face of the woman I just saved, then?” 

“No,” She shook her head and the voice remained automatic, “I can pay you.” 

Without turning around to face her, the redhead reached into the pocket of the cloak before producing a bag--a dense looking bag, Harley noted. The stranger's pale hand was clutching at the material tightly before loosening the hold. 

The bag dropped to the ground with a thump but Harleen didn’t budge.

“I saved yer life, I don’t think I need a payment,” She shuffled her feet though her eyes remained on the bag. Money would do her good-- the entire family could be fed with the coins that were buried there. But accepting such fortune, especially for saving a life, felt wrong and almost evil. And Harleen liked to believe that she wasn’t an entirely bad person. She had to prove Nick’s reputation wrong, that they weren’t all tainted. That she wasn’t defined by the man she shared the same home with. That she was different…because she was. Harleen wasn’t him. 

“I command you to accept it,” The voice told her rather authoritatively. Harley took another cautious step forward. This time, she had squinted her eyes. 

“Command me? Are ya Her Majesty now?” It was a reach, but Harleen was eager. The certain glint of the emerald eyes was all she could see with every blink. It was carved within her vision like some sort of curse--or maybe a blessing, that she couldn’t decide yet.

Upon hearing those words, the woman’s stance hardened until her limbs couldn’t move. Harleen decided against stepping any closer, fearing an extreme reaction. She didn’t want the girl to run, not until finding out who she was. 

“No, I am not,” She responded dryly. 

“Then, who are you?” 

_I saved you, at least let me know who you are._

“I cannot reveal that,” She told again, “So I must ask again for your to accept the payment without an exchange of anything else.” 

“What are you hidin’?” Harley blinked once, “Yer not just a girl, are ya?” 

She hesitated for a moment and though the chances were slim, it was still there. She could potentially be exchanging words with an important individual so maybe bringing her mannerism wasn’t a terrible idea. 

“He punched ya,” She attempted again, “How will you explain the nasty wound to yer husband?” 

“I don’t have a husband.” 

With every word that was uttered, Harley couldn’t help but notice it turn into its normal tone. The resemblance between this woman’s wording and Pamela Isley’s was unmissable. Could it be? Could it really? 

The voice, the figure, the hair and the eyes…it built a puzzle even the dumbest of the fools could eventually dismantle. 

“Your Majesty?” Harleen was daring, that she knew. 

Then came the final blow. When the woman’s back arched, all was confirmed as true. Harleen was no jester.

Finally, the woman reached for her hood and tugged it down. She revealed her locks that hid beneath other parts of the cloak for good measure before turning around. They locked eyes for a long time, none of them uttering a word. Harley stared in disbelief, her knees bending in the middle on their accord.

The Princess was quick to shake her head, “That is not necessary, you saved me and for that, I must thank you. You acted like a hero today, and I remain grateful for such act.” 

Harley didn’t know what to process first. Her words, or her face. The Princess--she was standing right in front of her, just a few meters away, engaging in a conversation with someone who wasn’t even worthy of sharing the same spatial proximity. Her skin began to tingle, each limb quivering as she looked at the woman again, so rich in well-- _everything_. 

The set tone of her voice, the way her chin was pointed up, held high above all things divine and cursed. She was above everything. And that was shown in her posture alone. 

“I don’t need your coins,” Harley forced her accent to subside, because she was in the presence of a literal Princess. The least she could do was talk ‘proper’. 

“I command you accept them and never speak of this again.” 

Harley was shaking in her shoes once more. Although trying not to show it, the façade she presented had fell apart as soon as she opened her mouth, “I-I won’t speak, but I won’t accept the coins.” 

Great, now she couldn’t even speak without fumbling over her words. So much for speaking proper, Harley thought.  
Despite the failure in her language, The Princess seemed to smile. 

“What is your name?” 

_What in the holy Earth?_

Harley hoped that her jaw hadn’t dropped all the way down to the ground. With a cough, she straightened her posture, “Harley--Harleen. Harleen, it’s yes--” 

“A very pretty name,” Pamela told her with a gentle smile, but that wasn’t what Harleen was gazing at. Instead, her eyes were glued to the cut on the Princess’ cheek.

_My name is pretty?_

For a moment, Harley was certain she had begun to wither away. Her legs felt like the weakest material in the Kingdom, shuddering from all sides. And when Pamela’s smile didn’t falter, Harleen accepted her demise right there and then. Somehow, even through the hasty vision, the blonde learned how to nod. 

“Thank you, your Majesty.” 

“As I said, Pamela is acceptable. I owe you my life, you had it in the palm of your hands. You could have seized the opportunity and done what you pleased with it. But, you chose to save me, putting your own life in the hands of danger. Danger isn’t merciful, but you stayed. You do know that you could have been badly wounded, right, Harleen?” 

The way her name rolled off the Royal’s tongue was enticing, magical, and all other godly words hidden within big books. Harley trembled. It was all she could do for a long while. Her mind couldn’t produce a coherent thought, and certainly not a word. It was like everything she had ever been taught was ripped away from underneath her feet, and she was left with nothing. All alone to fend for herself in the presence of the Kingdom’s Princess. 

It hadn’t felt fair--the way in which Harley couldn’t utter a word right. She feared that the Princess had started to think that her question wasn’t acknowledged, so despite the pit in her stomach, Harley managed to produce a nod, or at least a motion that was close to it. 

“Very well,” Pamela sounded so educated, so everything that Harleen wasn’t…. “Then you must understand that you could have lost your own life on this day, right?” 

She nodded again, firmer this time. 

“And you saved mine,” The Princess concluded. 

“I-I suppose I did,” Harley confirmed, “But you’re--you’re the Princess, your Majesty.” 

“My status doesn’t make my life any more worthy than yours, Harleen.” 

Oh. 

Harley had to disagree, although the words were somewhat reassuring, in a way. Harley didn’t feel as common. Pamela had grounded herself, had pushed herself down onto the blonde’s level. 

“I don’t agree, your Majesty.” 

“That is your choice, and I must respect that,” Then, something in the air had shifted, “Can you read, Harleen?” 

Embarrassed, she shook her head no. 

“Very well, then a paper invitation won’t be necessary,” The Princess spoke, “I want to invite you to my Garden. The very same one on the grounds of the castle.” 

She blinked. Once. Twice. And then repeatedly afterwards. Was--was Harleen dreaming? Was the Princess still talking to her? Surely not. The blonde turned on her heels to glance behind her, but she was the only person that stood in front of her Majesty. 

Harley’s judgement felt clouded as she questioned herself if her physique was good enough, worthy enough to walk the grounds of the castle. The closest she had ever came to the resistant building was during the protests. And now she was being asked to step foot on it. Harleen had half a mind to shake her head and go, but the other part was intrigued and driven, especially by the look the Princes wore so well. 

Against all sane things, she nodded. 

“Will anything be keeping you busy after the sun rises again?” 

A shake of her head was all she needed to proceed. 

“How fitting,” Pamela hummed, “Grace me with your presence when the sun is up by the middle, Harleen.” 

Momentarily, she was frozen in place, being held by the clutches of an invisible force that didn’t want to let go. By the time she could move, Pamela had began to round a corner. 

“Your cheek, your Grace!” She yelled, but Pamela was already gone. And all Harley’s vision could see were those shiny green eyes even though they no longer stood in front of her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imma simp for these two women. Sorry for any errors, I wrote this while it was late!

By the time Pamela arrived at the gates of the castle--more specifically the back entrance which Bruce agreed to guard for her return--the sun had already begun to descend. Once she reached him, she noticed Bruce wore a worried expression, his posture tense as if though he was preparing for battle. 

“Your Majesty,” He bowed a little, “I had been waiting for a long time, I thought something bad had happened to you but I did not want to alarm your family, so I kept it to my own ears. Are you alright?” 

His question didn’t surprise her much. It wasn’t often that Pamela asked to attend places alone, especially the common town areas. The castle had dense walls for a reason, ensuring that nobody was to break through without putting up their best fight. 

Was she alright? 

Pamela only needed to ponder that question for a very short time. 

“I am quite alright, Bruce,” She lied while ignoring the stinging of her cheek. The dark was benefiting her now, masking her face from his line of vision. 

“I think that I should walk with you on your upcoming escapade,” He offered, visibly still a little shaken from her lengthy absence. Bruce was a good man, and even a better knight. His abilities had never betrayed him once, hence Pamela’s request to have him as her personal guard. 

“I remain thankful for your offer, but it’s okay. I require to be alone sometimes.” 

“If the King found out I let you go alone, my head would be the next to come off my shoulders,” Bruce chuckled at that, though Pamela could tell he was worried. There was no need for it. 

“You do not have to fear such a thing, my dark knight, I assure you.” That seemed to ease him, his posture immediately loosening and whatever tension that was cast upon him was suddenly erased. 

Nodding, Bruce sighed, “I know. Your promises tend to mean the most in this Kingdom.” 

“And I don’t intend on breaking that,” Pamela smiled, nice and soft, like any flower would. A delicate expression without any intention of harm. That was a rather uncommon occurance within this Kingdom. Everyone sought something, whether it was a few coins or other favours. Nothing came free, Pamela learned. Until today. 

That girl--woman, Harleen. She was selfless, putting her own neck on the line for a stranger. The blonde didn’t hesitate to help despite not knowing who Pamela was at first. And what came as most astonishing was that Harleen did not ask for anything in return. She even refused the coins--something that could have helped her a lot. But Pamela left those on the ground in hopes that she’d come to her senses and accept the money. A life was worth everything. Nothing could replace that or purchase it back. 

“We should step inside, the King’s guards remain on high alert,” Bruce informed with a motion towards the castle.  
Pamela nodded in agreement and took the lead, though her mind could not dissolve the images of blonde locks and ocean eyes. And most importantly, the woman’s bravery. 

//

Harley jerked awake with the heaviest yawn she could, her arms immediately raising into the air as she stretched. Upon looking around, she found the small room empty much to her liking. Barry’s irritating voice couldn’t be heard, and Nick’s snoring was also not present. 

_Blessed with a good morning._

Harley thought with a subtle shake of her head. For a long minute, she hadn’t noticed the smile that had spread across her cheeks. 

She was going--to see the Princess--to talk to her. Harleen was going to exchange words with the godly woman. _She_ , Harleen Quinzel, was going to do that. 

It hadn’t felt real at first. Not for a long while. Harleen felt like she was dreaming up until she’d approached the walls of the castle, closer than she had ever done before. The sight was real intimidating, she decided as she perked up to stare at the guards.

“I--uhm--” 

Now how was she to explain that? I have to see the Princess? She invited me here? All these statements sounded surreal and Harleen was certain these men wouldn’t believe her. 

“Clear off,” The guard told her and tightened his grip around the sword. 

Gulping and nodding, the blonde shuffled back, almost tripping over her scruffy dress. She couldn’t find anything better to wear. All her clothes were for comfort rather than beauty, and even if she wanted it the other way, Harley couldn’t afford such luxury. Those sort of things were for Princesses only, and Harley was just a common girl with nothing to lose. 

Oh, but so much to gain…

“Ya don’t understand,” She tried again, “Her Majesty invited me inside--to her garden.” 

The guards stared at her blankly before bursting into a laugh. Both of them almost doubling over while Harley tried to figure out what was so funny. 

She wasn’t a jester--she was no clown. They weren’t meant to laugh…She hadn’t even uttered anything remotely funny. By the time they stopped, Harley’s shoulders had sunk way below her neck. 

“You’re a funny girl,” One of them cracked a sloppy grin so wide, Harley could see his rotten teeth. 

“Ya well so is yer toothless grin,” She spat back, her brows furrowed. 

“Do you know how easy it is to gut a little girl like you?” 

Harley hadn’t been expecting that. It wasn’t often she felt fear, but this was one of the scenarios where she did. The guard withdrew his sword from the scabbard, the metal staring at Harley straight in the eye. She sure hoped that he wasn’t going to demonstrate his statement--she hadn’t meant to get him so riled up. 

Stepping back, Harley began to shake her head in wordless attempts to tell him to back away. But that didn’t stop him, the man continued to pace forward, instilling another wave of terror within her. 

“What is this?” A familiar voice, deep and rich, called out from behind the open gate. 

Immediately, the guard lowered his sword and turned around to bend at his knees, bowing in front of the redhead beauty, “Apologies, your Majesty. We were unsure of what to do with this fool. She came in here claiming she was here to see you.” 

“And she had been righteous,” Pamela hummed and finally, she met Harley’s eyes with her own. Their gazes intertwined intensely, so tight that Harley’s throat felt completely dry, “Let her through.” 

“Your Grace, are you certain?” One of the guards asked and Harley whirled to look at him. He was staring at her garments, looking doubtful and evidently cautious. 

“I am. Is there a reason you doubt my word?” 

His jaw slackened for a moment before he shook his head, “No, your Grace.” 

“Very well,” Pamela stated as the guard moved to the side, widening the space between himself and Harleen. With a final glance thrown at him, Harley stepped forward and bowed, although the Princess didn’t seem particularly fond of the action. 

“No need for that, I ask you refer to me as Pamela,” She explained with a smile. 

The Princess smiled at her. Harleen took a long moment to process and by the time she snapped out of the trance, Pamela was motioning her over. Hesitantly, she took a step forward as the Royal Highness began to set their pace across the castle’s grounds. 

Harleen’s gaze assessed her. They were about the same height, although Pamela appeared a little taller due to her trained posture. She wasn’t slouched--Not like Harleen. Straightening her back immediately, Harley swallowed whatever contents her mouth held, desperately trying to regain her normal breathing speed. 

The sun was sitting nicely against Pamela’s skin as they walked, making the woman appear like a magical force straight out of a fairytale book. She was divine, Harleen concluded as they continued to step in silence. Even beneath the dress, Harley could make out the slender shape of Pamela’s legs. It felt wrong somehow, for her eyes to wander so freely. But she couldn’t help it, unable to lift her gaze away. 

Never before had Harley felt so inferior. In all ways. It hurt, her chest aching before she was reminded why she was here. Harley saved the Princess, she must have been worth something, right? 

It was a courageous act, so Harleen couldn’t have been a total fool. 

“You came,” Pamela’s voice cut through the silence. Harley wasn’t sure what angels looked like, but if she was to guess, Pam’s face would be her first choice. The woman had incredibly noticeable cheekbones, her jawline sharp as if it was carved by the greatest blacksmith in town. Then her waist--Harleen noticed she was staring yet again, and she hadn’t even responded. 

“Yes, your Majesty, I did-”

“Pamela,” She corrected, “Please.” 

It felt so awfully wrong, Harley thought, to refer to Her Grace by a name alone. 

“I don’t think I can,” She admitted, but Pamela was already shaking her head disapprovingly. 

“Can’t or won’t?” 

Ah, that was clever. Harley laughed a little at that and Pamela’s face shifted--morphing into something pleasant. 

“That was a beautiful melody, Harleen.” She told and Harley immediately felt the heat rushing to her cheeks all the while praying that it wasn’t too obvious. 

“You think so?” She asked, hopeful, not wanting to believe it at first. Her Ma and Pa told her different, which tended to shut her up quite quickly. 

Nodding, the redhead offered another smile, “I know so.” 

Harley glanced at Pamela’s cheek, her skin still red and bruised but no longer bloody. “How did you explain that?” 

The Princess straightened her posture, “My excuse was that I fell. Quite believable when I wear such long, heavy dresses.”

So not only was Pamela beautiful, she was also an incredibly smart liar, it seemed. Harley could do that too. She could lie. And she had done that many times before. That seemed to be the only similarity they shared. However, it wasn’t a good one. This life…it required a lying tongue, but Harleen wished that they shared something…better than that. 

“Does it hurt?” She then questioned rather blandly, having forgotten what it felt like to be struck across the cheek with such force. 

Shaking her head, Pamela sighed, “No, it stopped rather quickly after you saved me. Once the fear set in, I forgot all about the pain.” 

Harley blinked, processing and understanding. So the Royals, these mighty people who lacked not an ounce of power…they were also afraid of the world. The Princess had just admitted to it and Harley watched, her body still and she listened. 

“If it wasn’t for you, it could have been much worse than a strike to the face. I’m certain of it.” 

Harley felt her legs shudder, then her hands followed suit, “Right place at the right time.” 

She noticed that Pamela had her eyes closed, and then she’d hummed, “Do you believe in fate, Harleen?” 

The blonde stopped for a moment. She wasn’t…sure how to answer that. It was a big word, and Harley couldn’t even tell what the books said. She understood what it meant, of course. But she wasn’t certain what fate meant _to_ her. 

“I don’t know,” She replied truthfully after some time, “Do you?” 

Turning to face The Princess, Harley was pleased to find her emerald eyes open. And staring at her. 

“I don’t know,” Pam repeated her words in a slow manner, “But I do believe some things are just meant to happen.” 

“Like there’s no stoppin’ them?” She let her accent slip without noticing. 

Pamela smiled with a curt nod, “Something like that, Harleen.” 

Harley halted her steps as soon as The Princess stopped. Only then did she take the time of day to fully look around, glancing over all the flowers that stood tall. Alive and healthy. All beautiful. Every single one of them. So this was Pamela’s garden. The place where she spent most of her days--at least that was what Harleen heard from all the stories. 

And there were many stories about the Royals…but Pamela’s place in the garden never faltered in any of the books. 

“It’s beautiful, your Majesty--Pamela,” Hesitantly, Harley corrected herself upon noticing the look of distaste that sat across the redhead’s face. 

“I think so, too.” 

Pam stroked the petal of a red rose, its colours bright and sharp, very royal and almighty. It didn’t take long for Harley to find a comparison between the Princess and the rose. Although there were clear differences, the flower and Pamela remained incredibly similar. 

First it was the red. Pamela’s hair was red, oh so red and shiny. Harley wanted to soak her fingers in those locks. Then, it was the sharpness. The rose bush had hundreds of thorns protecting it, and Pamela…well, she was alone. Trusting Harley. But she remained sharp, such a word was etched deep within her jaw and cheekbones, both intensely sharp-edged. Finally, it was the green. It was the leaves that Harley noticed last. But Pamela’s green eyes were the very first thing Harleen’s gaze registered. They were beautiful, and Harley could spend days comparing them to the most notable things this world had to offer. 

“Which one do you like the most?” Harley found herself asking and Pamela raised her head a little higher, observing her garden with squinting eyes. 

“I cannot make such a grand decision,” She admitted, “They are all heavenly and all worth so much.” 

_They’re just flowers._

That was what Harley thought. Yes, they were beautiful things, and they smelled nice. But they were flowers. That’s all they would ever be. However, the Princess appeared to be attached and Harley found it to be a little strange but nonetheless endearing. She supposed that everyone formed attachments to different things, yet she found it difficult to understand this one. 

“Why do ya love your garden so much?” Harley whispered, loud enough for Pamela to hear. The woman looked like she was expecting such a question, because all she did was smile. “You spend a lot of time here, and take no offence, but it seems crazy. Don’t ya get bored?” 

“Have you ever had a place that brings you endless peace?” Now it was Pam’s turn to question, “An escape from the world?” 

Harley shook her head immediately, needing no time to think over that question. 

“My garden is that sanctuary, it washes all the evil away, it allows me to breathe.” 

Now Harley understood. The connection…everyone connected with something. Harley wasn’t sure what brought her peace, but she was left wondering what the Princess had to hide away from. 

“What are ya tryin’ to find peace from?” 

Momentarily, Harley watched as Pamela’s jaw twitched in a way that seemed like she was trying to communicate something. However, her eyes softened and she simply shook her head, “Everything, Harleen. Everyone needs an escape no matter how big or small things get.” 

“I think I will need ta find my escape too, someday.” 

“And how do you envision your escape, Harleen?” Pamela pushed on. 

Harley could only shrug in response, but eventually, a small, dull smile had cast itself upon her lips, “A house by the coast somewhere, with windows facin’ the sea. A little garden of vegetables and a few chickens. I think that’s how I see it.” 

//

They had met every single day after that one. 

Every time the sun graced the sky, Pamela woke up with a smile brighter than her crown itself. It felt rather strange--to look forward to something so much. 

Often-times, she felt herself not understanding just how she’d began to enjoy someone’s presence so much.

Pamela was alone. For a long time. And she began loving it, because the one thing life taught her was that people hurt people. People hurt her. 

Yet there she was, approaching the walls of the castle to meet a woman who’s presence seemed important.

Essential. 

And it was frightening, but somehow, Pamela didn’t mind being afraid. 

“Good mornin’!” The blonde chirped and she was glad to find that the guards had already allowed her inside the walls. 

“Good morning,” Pamela greeted with a smile of her own, though Harley’s was much more intense. 

“How was yer day, red?” 

Red. 

That one was new, though she supposed it shouldn’t have been. 

Pamela understood that it was her hair that elicited such a name. It was a sign that Harleen was growing more comfortable, more accustom to this, which was nice. It felt light. Easy. 

And Pamela hadn’t felt easy for a long time. 

The accent also made a return. Harley was no longer attempting to talk like her, and at first, Pam was taken aback by the thickness of her speech, but a little while later, she came to realize that it was unique. 

Nobody else around her spoke in such manner, so the change had been nice and fun. 

Harley no longer referred to her as ‘Highness’ or any other terms of endearment that were awfully royal. The only exception being was that someone else was around--and even that was rare. 

Pam liked it. 

The lack of formality, somehow, felt nice when it came from Harleen. 

The blonde was comfortable, and that was all Pamela had wanted since the beginning. 

She supposed they were friends. 

A first of many firsts. 

“My morning was in order,” She told, “And how was yours?”  
Harley pouted for a moment, “Eh, it was fine. Nothin’ out the usual.” 

“I’m glad to hear that.” 

That she was. 

“Father brought a chicken back home for supper, ya know?” 

The redhead glanced at Harley, noting the way her eyes were glinting with something that could only be pinned as excitement. Momentarily, Pam wondered if satisfactory suppers were a rare occurrence. 

After all, they hadn’t talked about themselves a lot. 

They talked _to_ one another, but that was different. 

“And how was that, Harleen?” 

Clasping her hands together, the blonde then swayed her arms up playfully, taking an appearance of a windmill of some sorts and it looked rather silly, “The nicest piece of chicken I’ve ever had in me, Red.” 

Smiling pleasantly, Pam hummed, “I don’t doubt that, although the cook’s here work magic. You should come some time if you’d like. I would love to show you around.” 

Harley briefly glanced at the castle from the garden and shrugged, “Looks scary--not that I don’t want to, I just--it feels wrong.” 

Pamela tilted her head to the side, “Oh?” 

“I love spendin’ time with ya, truly. There’s nothin’ more I love doin’, but I’m just a girl, Red. And you’re--” She motioned to Pamela’s everything, “You’re a Princess.” 

“Don’t be silly, Harleen. You’re my friend,” That was true. They had called each other friends the last few days although really, Harleen deserved a more rewarding title. She saved Pamela’s life. She wasn’t just some girl, she’d never be just some girl. 

“And we can stay friends in yer garden,” Harley chuckled before motioning to the dirt, “And you said you’d show me how to take care of the flowers.” 

“That I did,” Nodding, she reached for the metal scissors that lay by her roses, “Now, you know how to work these?” 

Harley eagerly nodded, “Yes, my Ma always said I was good at cuttin’ things. Suppose I’m good with my fingers.” 

“Well, let us put that to the test,” Pam handed her the scissors and turned back to the rose bush, “Tell me-- No, cut the first leaf you think needs cutting, Harleen.” 

Suddenly, the enthusiasm that was etched deep within Harley’s features vanished. She looked at Pamela, then at the flower bush, “Ya want me to cut yer flower just like that?”  
“I trust you.” 

The words were spoken softly. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if Harleen had heard her, but the nod that followed reassured Pam that she indeed had. 

The slight tremble in Harley’s fingers didn’t go unnoticed, so quietly and with half a mind not processing her actions, Pam’s palm wrapped around Harley’s knuckles, steadying her. 

This wasn’t just a flower and they both knew it. 

Pamela told her about this bush. Told her that it was old. Told her how it brought her peace. How it was the first addition to this garden. Her first non-human friend.

As if by some miracle, Harley stopped trembling and Pamela felt that it was right to move her hand away. 

Now free, Harley reached for the pair of leaves that appeared to be the most out of place. Wordlessly, she brought the sharp edges of the scissors to them, and cut. 

Pamela stared, surprised, “How did you know I wanted you to cut those?” 

There were many leaves sticking out of place on the rose bush, but Harleen purposely picked those ones. 

“Because ya were lookin’ at them,” She informed a little pridefully. 

The redhead was pleasantly surprised, her own focus seemed to overcloud anything else as she hadn’t noticed that Harley was looking at her in that moment when she stared at the leaves. 

Observant. 

A hero. 

Pamela knew there was so much more still left to find. 

By the time they finished nurturing the garden and all the flowers, the sky was beginning to turn an orange shade while the sun prepared to go down and emerge on the other side of the horizon. 

“Thank you for your help,” Pam whispered tiredly, digging her hands out from under the dirt. 

“I enjoyed this,” Harley shrugged and evidently didn’t consider this ‘helping’, “Ya want me here tomorrow?” 

“Is it what you want-” 

“Pammy!” 

Of course.  
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she turned around and pulled the tightest smile she could, refusing to offer any other sign of greeting, “Yes?” 

Jack rolled his instead, “Enough chatter with your lady stranger,” He told her and Pam shook her head. 

“Friend, Jack. She is a friend,” Correcting him felt like the only right way to go about this. 

Amused, Jack smirked and leaned down to press his uninvited lips to Harleen’s knuckles, “My sincerest apologies, what is your name?” 

For a moment, Harley appeared frightened. And Pam was about to step in but the blonde already uttered her name. 

“Harleen,” Jack repeated to himself and dropped her hand, “How did you come to know my sister?” He wondered, “She doesn’t keep a lot of friends around. This garden is all she has, isn’t that right, Pammy?” 

Her jaw clenched on its own accord, but Pamela knew better than to snap and end up on his worse side, “That’s right,” She murmured while Harley shifted uncomfortably beside her. 

If Jack was to find out how they truly met--Pam would be forced into her chamber, never to leave again. She stared at Harley, her eyes being the only form of communication. Pamela didn’t expect the blonde to understand or to even glance back at her, and she felt her heart stop when Harley opened her mouth to speak. 

“I love flowers, my Ma owns a little garden of them,” Harley explained with such clarity, it was all rather convincing, “A few summers ago when Her Grace was small, just like I’d been, she saw the flowers in my garden and was excited. Happy.” 

“That was years ago, when we had to greet Roman and his ships,” Pamela fed into the lie, recalling one of the only public appearances she made in the town. Usually, leaving the walls of the castle was off limits. It had its dangers. But when Roman Sionis arrived on their land for the first time, it had been a cause for celebration. It was important, especially the presence of Richard Sionis, the boy’s father. 

“Quite the while ago, then,” Jack noted, his tone low and dangerous that even Pam couldn’t read it. And he was her brother.

“That’s right,” Harley nodded, “But when she saw the flowers, she’d asked me to bring some for her and I did, with the dirt and everythin’.” 

“I haven’t seen you around before,” Jack mumbled, his green eyes boring into the blue. 

“You know me, I have a way with my words. I had upset Harleen,” Pam quickly recovered. Their story was stupid and bland, but their ability to work together and construct something like that was rather impressive, at least to Pam. They did so without exchanging a direct word, just subtle glances from time to time. 

“Lord, Pammy. You had Harleen upset at you for years?” For a moment, Jack laughed. Just chuckled until he’d almost choked, “Tell me--what did you tell her, Pammy? Why was she so upset. Share some of the history!” 

“I don’t think you need to know,” The redhead turned around, her back now at him. But Jack wasn’t having that, that was obvious. With a firm hand now against her shoulder, Pam whipped back around, standing up to match his level. 

He was forced to let go, his nails no longer bracing themselves against her pale skin. 

“Did you call her a common girl, Pamela?” Jack beamed and turned to Harleen. He studied her for a long while, just like Pam did. The blonde, despite her best attempts to stay collected in the presence of their future King, appeared distraught and frightened. 

Pamela didn’t blame her, not for a moment. 

“Yes, I did.” She lied once more. There was no other option but to go on with the lie they formulated. The worst part wasn’t even the falseness of it all. It was that Jack wanted more, searching for it until there was nothing else to give. 

He had a way of things. To take everything. To trap it and keep it. 

Gasping dramatically, Jack moved to cover his mouth, “No! Oh, Pammy, how could you?” He swayed from side to side, and Pamela wished he would just tumble over, never to get back up again. 

It was terrible. But she didn’t feel bad. 

He was her flesh and blood, though. Yet sometimes, Pam was convinced that Jack was nothing but a bastard. 

“But why was Harleen so upset?” He tilted his head to stare at the blonde now, “Wasn’t my sister correct, Harleen? Aren’t you just a common girl?” 

“Yes,” She nodded and that was enough to make Jack’s smile vanish instantly. 

“Yes?” He stepped closer, “Yes what?” 

For a split second, Harley was puzzled and unable to articulate her confusion. But when Jack pointed at an imaginary crown on his head, she’d understood. 

“Yes, your Majesty,” She corrected herself quickly and scattered up to bend at the knees. 

Smiling, Jack pointed his acute chin a little higher, “Better. And to think I had touched your hand…” 

“Surely, you didn’t come here to belittle my friend, did you?” Pamela’s cheeks were red, her skin hot and tender to the touch. She felt shameful, like she’d committed the most severe crime in this Kingdom. 

“There is nothing to belittle,” Jack whistled, “What I came here to tell you is that your presence is requested at the table. Mother and Father are both looking forward to hearing your story. It’s entertaining.” 

_I despise him, I despise him, I despise him-_

“Of course, sorry to cut this short, Harleen,” Pamela turned to her to apologise, but her heart immediately sunk as she found Harley staring at the dirt on her dress, refusing to meet her gaze. 

“Oh no, Pamela. You aren’t cutting this short, it’s been too long, the sun is going down. And what kind of brother would I be if I didn’t look after you now, hm? Don’t want you getting cold, and the nights tend to get a little harsh.” At some point during his sentences, he’d wrapped a firm arm around her shoulders, prepared to drag her back towards the castle. 

“Excuse me, your Grace,” Harley bowed again, only brave enough to meet Jack’s gaze while ignoring Pamela, “Have a nice evening.” 

“Of course,” Jack tightened his grip around the redhead, “You as well, make sure to eat plenty.” 

Harley turned around, walking her way back towards the walls, but the voice of the Prince had her feet stopping in the grass. 

“Oh and Harleen, don’t bother gracing us with your presence here again. Not until you acquire some better attire. Don’t you agree, Pammy?” 

Only then did Harley finally look at her. She wasn’t looking-- she was staring, awaiting for an answer which Pamela feared to provide. Despite her instincts and every bone screaming at her, she was prepared to shake her head no. But Jack’s grip was tight and merciless, the intensity of his fingernails against her back never faltering. 

“Yes,” She hung her head down, and that was all Harley needed to hear to turn around and begin walking away. Never to look at her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Simping sm, apologies for the ending


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay everyone, I'm trying my best. You won't have to wait this long for the next chapter, I promise

Pamela counted each day. Whenever the sun rose, she’d remind herself how many days had passed since she last laid eyes upon Harleen. This morning, it was ten. Ten long days. Ten afternoons without blue eyes staring into her own. Ten evenings without witnessing the golden sun colliding with even brighter locks. 

Ten days of utter weight. 

A weight she hadn’t experiences before. 

“Breakfast is served,” Selina announced as she glanced outside and for the final time, her hands tightened Pamela’s dress. 

For a moment, the redhead lost her breath. But nothing could compare to how her breath faltered ten days prior. 

Nodding, Pamela pulled herself away and allowed Selina to lead the way, down the stairs, through the long hallways, through various rooms until the dining hall came into view. Her family was already sitting comfortably, though none of them began to touch their food without her presence. 

She glanced at Jack briefly, who was eyeing the baked goods with a soft glare. But that turned stony once he caught sight of Pam, “Finally, I thought you were dead! That would have been…an unpleasant surprise.” 

“Jack,” Arthur shook his head at him upon taking a swing of the wine, “Continue this bickering once you’re away from the table. I do not want to hear it right now.” 

“And why, pray tell, not?” Pamela asked as she took a seat, her slender fingers reaching for the nearest vegetable bowl. Her fathers’ expression was laced with something uneasy, not concern but rather consideration, as if he was balancing his options out. 

Options of what though, Pamela wasn’t certain. 

“The Sionis household are strengthening their armies,” Arthur began to explain after another heavy sip of wine, “Yes, we are allies, but they could soon become an enemy.” 

“Oh please,” Lillian resisted the urge to roll her eyes, “Anyone who isn’t us, is a common enemy.” 

“What do you propose we do? We need a course of action,” Jack chuckled drunkenly, very clearly having taken a little too much of the wine that was offered. 

“I will figure that out,” Arthur raised a single hand to ease his family, “We must remember that a sea parts us, but even that is a little distance when a man like him has an entire army at his command.” 

Nodding in agreement, Jack leaned back and sighed before taking a bite of a sugary cake, “We must raise our armies too, we will not be clowned by the likes of them.” 

“Have you suddenly forgotten that our crop fields were ruined and turned into ashes?” Lillian offered her insight of things, and although Arthur-or any man- didn’t take a woman’s advice, his wife was sharp. Sometimes, he’d like to compare Lillian to his sword, in more ways than one. 

“The people are working on that,” The King announced, “The crops will be ravishing for next harvest, I assure you and I have assured our people.” 

Jack chuckled again, but this time, a piece of cake had lodged itself in his throat. He coughed to collect himself and raised a finger, indicating that nobody was to speak until he made his point. Which he did, after some wine helped him recover, “We might as well be headless by next harvest.” 

“For now, we are allied. I believe that King Richard has no plans of an invasion, there is no motivation.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong, my dear,” Lillian had risen from her seat, “We have the throne. People don’t need another motivation.” 

//

As soon as the house was empty, Harley found herself slipping into the smallest pair of pants that Barry owned. They were still a little loose, but it was fine. They hadn’t fallen off yet--not even when she was balancing on the palms of her hands with her feet up in the air. 

“I’m standin’ on my hands,” The blonde laughed before wobbling a bit. But, she was skilled enough to regain her balance rather quickly. Then, slowly, Harley pulled one of her hands up from the wooden floor and raised it upward, now balancing herself on a single palm. 

_Yes!_

Her body came crashing down, but that wasn’t enough to kill her excitement. She was up on her feet in no time, hopping and trampling against the floor while laughing. That was the first time she was able to hold herself up like that! And she had been practising for numerous days. Longer than her and the Princess stopped their communication. Way longer than that. 

At that thought, Harley lowered herself onto the floor, her shoulders and head both sinking at the memory of emerald eyes watching her like there was nobody else around. 

Everything had been fine-- perfect, before the Prince showed up. 

In her many years of life, Harley had seen enough of Jack running the Kingdom to know what he was like. That was why people feared him. 

Feared him enough to not hate him. 

The people were afraid of that too. 

One bad word against the Prince could result in a lost tongue, she had seen it before years ago when Jack was just a little boy and she even younger.  
It left her wondering what sort of King he would become. He was the heir to the throne. Soon, if something terrible was to happen to King Arthur, they would be under Jack’s command. 

And inside, Harley knew that the orders he would command would be ones of benefit to him, and not this nation. 

“Harleen--I need help,” Sharon yelled from the front of the house and Harley skipped over to the woman, who was gazing down at her legs as soon as she opened the door, “What are ye doin’ in Barry’s pants?” 

Harley grabbed the bucket of water from her mother’s hands and shrugged, “They’re comfortable. Dresses are too long and heavy.” 

“My goodness, Harley,” Sharon pointed toward the direction of their room, “Go and change right now. I will not have you seen looking like that.” 

With an audible sigh of irritation that couldn’t be made louder even if she tried, Harley returned to their shared room and slipped into a dress. The same one she wore when she last saw Pamela. The one that was ripped and dirty all over…the one that resulted in Jack’s words that indicated she was dirty and careless. 

She looked at it for another moment before shaking her head and reappearing in the main room, where Sharon was beginning to move the buckets into the yard. 

“Need a hand?” Harley questioned. 

Sharon nodded and waved her over, “Yea, that would never hurt.” 

Harleen reached for the bucket and gripped it tightly, completing the job much quicker than her mother ever could. It was understandable, though. Sharon was older, her back couldn’t carry as much pressure as Harley’s could. She could do so much with her current state if it wasn’t for Nick--she was a healthy child, one who was willing to work and put some food on the table. 

“There’s two more that need fillin’ out front,” Sharon motioned towards the front door with her chin before busying herself with dunking various pieces of clothing into the soapy water. 

Nodding, Harley left and was immediately met by the sun. Her pale and tender skin turned warm underneath the rays, a smile appearing on her face as she soaked in the beautiful weather that graced the Kingdom yet again for numerous days in a row. 

Just as she began to lean down and pick up the buckets, a hand--soft and needy--clutched itself around her mouth. 

“He--mmph!” With wide eyes, Harley felt herself being spun around, looking deep into the eyes of the hand’s owner. Green. 

Before a word could escape between her gritted teeth, the hooded figure began to tug her into the nearest shadows. For a moment, Harley was surprised to find that in all this hastiness, she was still holding onto the buckets like they were the most important thing. Once the sunshine let go of her skin, the hand that had jerked her away also released her. 

Suddenly, she felt cold. 

And very much so alone. 

But Pamela was in front of her. 

“Harleen, I’m sorry,” The words spilled out hurriedly before Harley could fully open her mouth or process the sequence of events that had just occurred. 

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. With a greeting, or with an apology of her own? It wasn’t simple when Harleen didn’t know how to feel. 

She wasn’t angry. 

She was ashamed. 

Because in a way, Prince Jack had been right with his implications. 

“I’m n-not sure I’m worthy being in yer presence,” Harley confessed, quiet. 

Pamela was shaking her head frantically, her expression panicked and so different from how Harley usually saw her. The redhead was collected and strategical, she was sharp--and now she’d been struggling to display any of those traits. 

All because Harley hadn’t seen her for ten days, she realised. 

“Nonsense! What Jack said, it wasn’t true. The words that spill from his mouth are horrid and unjust. They don’t apply to you, Harleen. They don’t describe you.” 

Harley ached to believe her, but once she’d recalled the way Pamela agreed with the Prince, the blonde wanted to back away. To stuff herself into the nearest corner, to shy away from Pamela’s intense glare that reeked with apologies and sorrow. Because if she stared for too long, Harley would agree. 

“With all due respect, Red, ya agreed with him.” 

That seemed to pain the redhead. With her chin held high, Pamela moved to shake her head in denial, “I’m sorry you had to see me at my weakest. Jack…he is--a strong character. Usually, I don’t allow men to direct my actions or wording, I’m not obedient. I wasn’t raised to be, but Jack--he’s different. He doesn’t care. My word against his is like a death wish. I would carve my own path into my tomb.” 

Harley’s eyes perked up at that, “Are ya…afraid of him?” 

Pamela didn’t respond, nor did she met Harley’s gaze. And that alone was enough communicate a detailed answer. 

“Why are ya here?” How did you know where I live?”  
“I have an acquaintance. He’s very good at finding things,” she informed, “But that is besides the point. I’m not here to beg for your forgiveness, but I am here to explain myself. Agreeing with him was a façade, it couldn’t have been further from the truth. I enjoy your presence, Harleen, and no set of attire is to change what you mean to me.” 

Suddenly, Harley found herself wondering the important things. Seeking answers she was afraid to discover. But she was curious. 

Oh so curious and brave. 

“And what is it that I mean to you?” The blonde whispered, her eyes raised to gaze at Pamela. 

“You’re my only friend.” 

//

“How did it go?” Bruce questioned as she emerged from the shadows, her hood still up and tightened around her shoulders. 

“Thank you for being kind enough to escort me here,” She mentioned first before a smile could fully take over her features, “And I think Harleen and I will be okay. Good.” 

“I heard what happened, your Majesty. What the Prince said.” 

_Of course, everyone in this Kingdom has the biggest ears. The feeders of the biggest lies._

Pamela just nodded, curt and sure, “I don’t doubt that. Jack was…unkind. But isn’t he always, Sir Bruce?” 

“You know I can’t offer a piece of my own mind,” He sounded disappointed, though a little confident. Even without words, Pam knew what he was attempting to communicate. It was never difficult to decipher opinionated words about Jack. 

What was difficult was keeping them a secret. The Kingdom had ears everywhere. 

“I have a favour to ask of you,” They took a sharp turn to avoid prying eyes, all this effort to conceal Pamela’s identity since it wasn’t a good luck for a Princess to be walking the streets of the common people. 

Bruce nodded, prepared to agree without even knowing the basis of her request, “Anything for you, Your Highness.” 

“I have a spare dress that I want Harleen to have. You are to deliver it to her in the early hours of tomorrow. Then, you will walk her to the castle and ensure she finds me in my garden.” 

“What if the Prince sees?” Bruce raised an eyebrow and Pamela smiled kindly. 

“Then, you let him see. I did as I was told. He shouldn’t have any more words to spare.”  
_Oh, but he always does._

The next morning, Pam was graced with Selina’s presence, the woman helping her slip into one of the lighter dresses, although even the cheaper materials contained enough richness to present Pamela perfectly. 

“How do I look?” The redhead asked, but an answer wasn’t really necessary. 

“Wonderful, Your Grace.” The dark haired woman nodded. She tilted her head sideways for another look and beamed, her eyes wandering across Pamela’s pale skin which lacked any sort of markings, really. 

“I will take your word for it,” Pam stood up to approach her door. Selina had followed suit immediately, staying behind Pam’s heels the entire descent of the staircase. 

“Is there a particular reason as to why you request my opinion regarding your appearance? I fail to recall you ever doing that before,” Selina wore a teasing expression, her tone worse and more full of it. 

Eventually, Pamela realised she didn’t have an answer. 

Her head was empty. Blank. Even when she attempted her hardest to search for a response. But none came. Selina’s questioning had left her wondering the very same thing. Why was she asking? Hadn’t she always felt confident? She always knew she was pretty, no? Why the sudden care in how she appeared in another person’s eye? 

“I have to go now, Selina,” Pam shut the conversation down entirely. 

Nodding, the woman stepped aside, allowing Pam to wander deeper into the dim hallways. 

Pam was crafty. She never ran out of things to say, or subjects to discuss. She was a woman of many languages, some wordless. But in that moment, when Selina had risen the question, Pam forgot how to speak--and think. 

It had been like something inside of her suddenly snapped. The functions her body was supposed to perform stopped working without an answer or an antidote. And what Pamela hated most was being a stranger to knowledge. 

She read books ever since she was a little girl, taught by her mother before perfecting the skill herself. Pamela loved words, and hated running out of them. Although the latter was becoming much more common every time she saw Harleen, much like it did now. 

Harley stood by Bruce’s side, clutching a clay pot tight between her trembling fingers. She wasn’t looking at her--hadn’t even noticed her for a brief moment before finally tilting her head up. 

“Your Majesty!” The blonde broke off into a playful jog towards her, though she soon slowed down to be mindful of the dress she wore.  
“Pamela,” She corrected, not stern nor gentle. But there was a smile on her face to tell Harleen that it was okay. That somehow, she missed her. Pamela never missed people, only her garden. 

“Shall I leave you to it, your Highness?” Bruce wondered, only to receive a curt nod from the redhead. Understandingly, he turned back and walked towards the castle, bowing slightly before he left. 

“You came,” Pam acknowledged, sounding rather surprised. 

Harley nodded, “Of course, just like ya came to me. It’s only fair I return the favour.” 

“This wasn’t supposed to be a favour. I want you here, really.” Pam was growing defensive, worried that Harley saw this as something else rather than friendship. Like she owed Pamela her presence merely because she was a Princess--it should have been the other way around, Harleen had saved her--

Harley laughed, “I want me here, too.” 

That was reassuring, for Pamela at least, as she released a heavy breath. Briefly, she glanced down at Harley’s hands, and the blonde stood upright. 

“Oh! These--for you,” Extending her arms, Harley motioned for the redhead to accept the pot. 

“Daffodils,” Pamela noted as she gripped the pot in her palms, “They’re beautiful, Harleen. Thank you. But may I ask why?” 

Harley appeared to ponder for a moment before grinning sheepishly, “Yer garden lacks yellow,” There was a brief pause before she continued, “And I suppose I wanted ya to remember me.” 

“You’re not going anywhere, though, are you?” Pamela worried and scanned over Harley’s hardened features with her eyes. But the blonde’s expression soon eased as she shook her head.

“I don’t think so, for as long as you’ll have me.” 

There was something within those words that made Pamela’s heart drop down to her gut. From the vast variation of books she read, Pam was incapable of picking a word that could best describe the feeling that had been coursing through her. But she…her words sounded final. 

“I would have you forever if I could.” 

//

Another week later and Harley found herself sitting on the grass of Pamela's garden, the redhead resting just beside her, those green eyes following the words Harley attempted to read out loud. 

“F-firm? Firml-- firmly?” She glanced back at Pamela with a questioning expression, seeking nothing but the redhead’s confirmation. 

And when Pam nodded, Harley felt like she’d just walked the longest valley in scorching heat without any shoes on!

Sensing her excitement, Pamela beamed, “You’re doing so well, Harley.” 

“Ya think so?” She asked, though she’d been certain that Pam’s answer was not going to change. When the redhead felt, she felt strongly. That much Harley had learned so far. 

“I know so.” She confirmed with a nod before returning her gaze back to the book. 

“Yer a great teacher, Red,” Harley have credit where it was due. There was no way she would have learned to read if it wasn’t for Pamela’s words of encouragement and pure adoration. Not once had Pam got mad or annoyed. She’d corrected Harley gently, explained everything thoroughly without a grain of irritation. 

Pamela made things so easy. 

“I will only believe it when I witness you read this without a hesitant pause.” 

Nodding, Harley reached to flick onto the next page, and at the same time, Pamela had the exact same idea floating within her head. Once their hands skimmed one another, Harley felt herself jerk back at the contact, her body stiff and stony, eyes glazed with something she couldn’t identify even if she tried. The contact--Harley didn’t flinch away because it had been horrid or rough. It had been foreign. 

Nice.

And so gentle. 

Harley was petrified. 

She broke things. 

She wasn’t delicate. Didn’t know how to be.

Pamela cleared her throat in a subtle attempt to dismantle the stillness of the air, but one look at the redhead and Harley knew she had sensed the same feeling. The emerald eyes were glossy and afraid, close to matching the look that was carved within the blonde. Pam refused to budge for a long time as Harley looked at her, both women unable to articulate a single word. 

Harley’s hand was still on fire, burning and stinging, but in a way that was bringing her life, not scarring her skin forever. It wasn’t painful, she wasn’t hurting. Harley was just waking up, facing something she hadn’t come across before. 

With a look of uncertainty, Pam drew her hand away slowly, “You should…read on.” 

Of course Pamela was the strong one, the first one to initiate another conversation. Harley didn’t hesitate in nodding, evidently wanting to move on as much as Pamela did.

“K--Kiss?” Harley read on, and it wasn’t long before she sensed Pam tensing up beside her, her back straight and tight like a rope. 

“What?” She breathed, seemingly unaware of her surroundings. And if Harley didn’t know any better, she’d ask if Pamela was drunk. 

“The book--I’m readin’.” She pointed a single finger at the pages.

Pam ran a frantic hand through her red locks, “Of course, sorry--yes, that’s the word. Keep going.” 

//

“Red, I can read now!” Harley chirped as soon as her foot passed the castle’s walls. The blonde had been religiously practising for days, much to Pam’s liking, and now she was claiming she could do it. 

Raising an amused brow, Pamela nodded, “Okay, open a random page and read to me.” 

Harley swiped through the pages of the book that Pam spared from the many she owned, her fingers finally stopping on a page she was yet to lay her eyes on. After finding the first line at the top of the page, she cleared her throat and followed the letters with her finger. 

For a moment, she had hesitated and halted, but Pam offered a look of encouragement and that was all Harleen needed. 

“Find something you love…and let it kill you.” 

Immediately, Pam broke out into a grin and clasped her hands together, prepared to deliver endless praise to the woman, “Your first line without a single stutter, Harleen!” 

Suddenly, Harley’s usually pale cheeks began to turn a deeper shade of red, almost prominent enough to match Pamela’s hair, “I only learn from the best!” 

She was equally as excited, and in her wake, Pam felt Harley’s arms wrap around her frame, squeezing until her chest almost collapsed, until she could no longer inhale. And once Harley tugged away, a sudden sense of bitter cold carved itself deep within Pamela’s body, like she was missing something, like a vital part of her had been torn away. It felt unpleasant for a long time after that, the lack of warmth getting to her even a few hours later, when the sun had begun to set. 

Before they set to part ways, Harley stopped in her tracks, her fingers falling away from the daffodils Pam had planted into the dirt, “Why did ya teach me how to read?” 

Pamela looked at her, “It is an essential skill for a woman to keep. It will come to be useful to you one day.” 

“Well in that case, thank you,” The blonde stood up from the grass, gazing longingly at the castle for a split second before motioning back at the walls and the main gate which would lead her back to the town, “I should go before Ma worries.” 

Nodding, Pam pulled herself up, “Of course. I wish you a good evening, Harleen.” 

“See ya tomorrow, Red.” Although it hadn’t meant to be, the statement was articulated in a form of a question as Harley raised her brows. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Pam told, and Harley nodded, her grin wide and eager, like there was nothing else she would rather be doing. Pamela couldn’t know how much of that assumption was true, but something about remaining oblivious had come to be rather intriguing--like there was something she could look forward to and learn with time. 

And she’d liked to think that they had time. Plenty of it. 

“Goodnight, Pamela.” 

With a curt nod, the blonde spun away and headed off, the both of them splitting in directions with Pam marching back towards the castle. 

//

Harley loved the sky, especially when it turned a darker hue of orange and pink, when the sun was setting and darkness had slowly descended upon the Kingdom. There was nothing else she’d rather stare at and absorb. That’s what she had thought for a very long time, at least. But then Pamela came along, and then the sky was suddenly forgotten. Gone. 

Instead, the powerful visual was replaced by emerald eyes, the fair skin and fiery hair. A godly force even the sky itself couldn’t compare with. Pamela was above it entirely. Above anything else Harleen had witnessed before. 

The gods of the afterlife were supposedly intoxicating and thunderous and Harley had never met them before. But if she was to describe them to the best of her ability, the only words she’d chose to utter would be ‘Pamela Isley’. She’d speak them with pride, without doubt, full of finality and conclusion. 

Why? 

Well, Pamela was the most beautiful person Harley’s gaze had the wonderful pleasure of witnessing. The redhead was everything Harley craved to be--but life worked in mysterious ways, pinning them as polar opposites. Like they shouldn’t even compare or breathe the same air--but Harleen had been doing exactly that. 

Breathing in Pamela’s presence. Almost every single morning. 

Briefly, she turned on her heel to glance back at the castle, hoping to find Pamela walking away from quite the distance. But--

“Oh!” She shrieked after being met with green eyes. Yet, they seemed to be a very different shade. Of course, Pamela wasn’t their owner. It was _him_.  
“Good evening,” Jack hummed, spreading his arms out from beneath his hefty cloak, “I believe I owe a lady like you an apology.” 

That…wasn’t something she anticipated. Evidently, her thoughts were shown in her complexion as the Prince began to chuckle, as if though something had been humorous. 

“I mean, isn’t that right, hmm? I wasn’t very nice to you. And you have such a lovely face.” 

Though as he spoke, Harley noted that her face wasn’t where his eyes lay. Instead, his orbs began to wander lower, in such a way that she began to feel no different from food. He was digesting her. Slowly but intrusively, like a wolf or a lion--any animal that primarily hunted on weaker forms of prey. 

“T-thank you, your Grace,” Despite the fear that rested deep in her gut, Harley managed to keep her feet firmly planted against the grass. She’d imagined she would stubble, but the green was holding her upright. 

Jack smiled while his expression softened ever so naturally, “Of course. I hope you find it in yourself to forgive me for my manners--or rather the lack of.” 

Harley nodded, but he wasn’t watching. Instead, he placed a timid hand on the small of her back and tugged, “Let me walk with you.” 

There was no option to say ‘no’. So ultimately, Harleen allowed him to stay. The Prince was intriguing, she could never lie about that. But she prayed to all the God’s she could and couldn’t name, wishing they’d heard her pleas for silence--for Jack to never utter another word. 

In the end, it was the same conclusion; Harley was never heard. 

“What is it with you and my dear sister?” He asked, wandering back into dangerous territory. 

“With all due respect, your Grace, what her Majesty said to you was all it ever was. She adores flowers more than anything, and she had seen me with them. A beautiful collection of daffodils. So I extended a kind hand, just like she’d extended the very same one to me.” 

“My Pammy, kind you say?” Jack peered at her dangerously, his chin pointed down in order to meet her blue eyes. 

With his hand still against her back, Harley didn’t dare to alter her pace. Her steps were forced to slow down as Jack began humming thoughtfully. Harley was certain the man was to say something smart or witty, especially when she nodded. 

“I’m saddened you think so,” He allowed his hand to slide away from her, “I’m a kinder man than my sister, Harleen.” 

She hadn’t meant for her eyes to widen so suddenly, but the utter shock and doubt that took over her was uncontrollable--her feelings showing in every form of expression that the human body could muster. 

Noticing, Jack grinned, “You don’t believe me.”  
Immediately coming to her own defence, Harley shook her head frantically, denying each and every possibility because she was afraid. Afraid of his hands, afraid of his mouth, and most importantly, Harley feared his mind. Whatever wandered in the man’s head…it was hell, a clear contrasting image to what holy books painted heaven to look like.

“No--it’s just that her highness is really good-hearted. I don’t expect anyone else to be. I don’t know they can be--not as kind as her.” 

Upon her clarification, Jack raised a single hand to silence her, “Pammy doesn’t understand what being kind truly looks like,” His steps eased as they finally approached the gate, he’d signalled for the guards to move aside before turning back to her, “Allow me to enlighten you. If you ever come across a moment when you need help, and have nobody to help you, turn to me, Harleen. Turn to me and I promise I will turn to you with an extended hand. A hand that never rests. A hand that has done so many great things. You will have that. You will have me.” 

At his whims, the tone of his voice had softened, morphing into a peaceful melody. So tranquil that Jack almost began whispering. 

But Harley heard him, loud and clear. 

With a curt nod and a bow, her heart sat heavy, “Thank you, your Grace.” 

“It is truly my _pleasure_.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is moving slowly, but I hope you are all patient : )

“I believe this is the first time you have ever told me to refrain from the presence of rich, suitable men,” Pam noted as Lillian joined her by the window, their eyes gazing at the Kingdom from above. Pamela’s chamber was undoubtedly the best viewpoint in the entire land, overlooking the generous town, and then further away, she could still make out the port and many stationed ships, all of which sailed away with their blessing. 

The older woman nodded, her hair just as luxurious in colour as Pamela’s, “Well yes. I suppose now you come to realise that there is a first time for everything.” 

“For many things,” Pam corrected, “Not everything. I have never met a woman--or a man-- who has experienced everything this divine life has to offer.” 

Lillian closed her eyes and swayed, whether it was to the chirping of the birds or Pamela’s voice, the redhead could not be certain, “You won’t be an exception, Pamela, do not fret.” 

“I would never be afraid of such thing,” She spoke as her mother swallowed some more wine. For a moment, Pam considered calling out the woman’s love and longing for alcohol, but ultimately, she’d decided against that. It wasn’t usual for Lillian to visit Pamela’s chamber. The last time she stood here, bad news followed. Pam wondered if today would hold the same story. 

“You should be,” Lillian told her with a smile--a smile that told her more than words could, and a thing about her mother…the woman had a special way with them. She could make the bravest men shake in their combat boots with just the use of her tongue, “because good things are usually followed by the bad. Life works in mysterious ways, and I have it figured out.” 

“Of course you do, mother,” Pam humoured her, deciding that a mere pattern of things wasn’t actually conclusive, not like Lillian claimed anyway. It was a mere coincidence. Good things could happen without the bad. 

“Laugh all you want, Pamela. You’re a woman now. You have been for a very long time and tried to hide it from me.” Another sip of wine followed her words. 

“That was a long time ago,” Briefly, Pam tensed up, her body unable to react in another manner. 

“It was indeed. But a mother knows best, doesn’t she?” 

“You certainly are living proof of that saying,” Pam decided to give her what she wanted, to feed those beings in her head. 

“I’m glad we agree,” Lillian turned to walk away and just as Pamela was about to breathe a sense of relief, she’d stopped, “And do not be forgetful. Be a woman that you want to be right now, and stay away from proposals of those disgusting suitors.” 

“They would need the King’s blessing, mother.” 

“Please,” Lillian chuckled just as she stepped out of the room, “You, Pamela, do things without a blessing. You do them with a cure.”  
With that, she shut the door, leaving Pamela to wonder: why? 

Why stay away from men now, when all Lillian had ever wanted was for Pamela to find a husband and have children? When all she sought was for little red-haired babies to fill the castle? 

There was nothing Pamela wanted less. She didn’t want a man--she hadn’t learned how to love one. And sometimes, she was left to wonder if she ever could. 

Many Lords had come to her with golden rings and meaningful necklaces, with manners and respect, with a kiss to her hand or cheek. Yet none of them could set off a spark within her, not like the one her previous lady friends described.

Apparently, it was supposed to be instantaneous, with a touch of one’s lips against her own. But Pamela felt nothing. There was no spark, no butterflies, no tingling limbs and certainly no sensation of joy. Instead, it was dread. It had been avoidance--with Pam ducking from their reach or shifting her body in such a way that it pained her, but at least no man’s lips could come close to her own.

Love…Pam didn’t and couldn’t know what it felt like…but it certainly wasn’t this. 

//

Harley had Nick backed into the nearest corner of their home, his drunken breath making her gag and choke--but she recovered quickly, her fingertips aching to fist themselves into his shirt that lacked a few buttons already. 

“What do you mean it’s gone?!” She shrieked with demand before snapping her fingers in front of his blurred gaze. 

Instead of offering an explanation, Nicholas laughed, his head jerking back to rest against the wall and had it not been there, he would have stumbled out of his oversized boots, “I mean it’s gone, Harleen! What else could it mean?” 

“Where?” 

As he attempted to straighten himself, Harley shoved him back against the wall, the contact emitting a loud thud that had her worried for a split moment, but Nick’s chuckle returned the rage yet again, the concern immediately melting away. 

“Gone, Harley--” A hiccup, “Gone!” 

“Do ya know what I had to do to get that money? Do ya?!” With every word, she slammed an angry fist against his chest all the while begging that he would wake up and somehow come to his senses, at least enough to provide an explanation, no matter how little or brief.

He shook his head with a toothy grin, “No--no little bird, I don’t. But it was a h-heavy bag.” 

Each of his words had come out slurred, and if Harley wasn’t angry before, rage had consumed her by now. Whatever grain of respect she still had for him--it was gone, vanishing into the air as she gripped his shirt and struck him across the face. Hard and fast.  
The contact came with a harsh sound, loud enough to silence the both of them. 

And when Nick’s vision finally evened out, he stared at his daughter like she was a stranger. And God--Harley wished she could have been. 

“I owed-- I owed someone,” He whispered through his hiccups, his entire body jerking upward. At that confession, Harley felt her hands slip away from his shirt before they came to rest limply at her sides. 

“You…who?” There was no fury within her words as that was replaced by an evident sense of disappointment…shame, the embodiment of what Nick had been for a very long time. 

“A man, Harley--you don’t know him. And praise go to the gods that you never do.” Nick shoved her away, though much gentler than she ever could. He stumbled over to the table, his weight heavy and mind even more. 

Harley followed after him with pure desperation, seeking nothing more than to get to the bottom of this nonsense. There was plenty of coins in that bag…it was enough to last them for weeks. 

Pam had been very generous--Harley did save her life, but the blonde had never seen such a great amount of money before. But, it vanished as quickly as it came. 

All because of him. 

The excuse of a man she had to call ‘father’, because life decided their relation couldn’t have been different. 

“I wish ya were a stranger, ya know?” She reminded him in attempts of pulling out an emotional reaction. 

But of course, he laughed at her again, “I know, but I’m your father, and don’t you ever forget it.” 

Harley screwed her eyes shut.

_I will. Oh, I will. As soon as you take your final breaths, you will be erased from my memory, never to resurface there again._

When she reopened them, Nick was reaching for the leather drink container, ready to tip it over his tongue and slip away again. To escape from a situation Harley was forced to remain in. 

“Yer a fuckin’ pig!” She slapped the item out of his hands, allowing it to spill all over the floor. Nick immediately fell to the ground in hopes of saving a drop, but Harley kicked it from beneath his hold, ensuring that he was to get no more. 

A slap to the face didn’t pull out such a reaction from him like a spilled drink did. 

“What in hell’s name is the matter with you?” He growled and grasped at her arm, his meaty fingers wrapping around her bone so tight, she almost lost all feeling. 

She turned to him bravely with gritted teeth, and spat. 

That was disturbing enough for Nicholas to push her to the ground harshly. There was barely enough time for Harley to catch herself, so when she collided with the floor, it had been hard and loud. For starters, she yelped, and then her vision turned hazy--not because of the dull ache in her bones, but because she’d begun to cry. 

The tears was all Nick could see once he looked down at her. But he didn’t feel sorry--Harley noticed it in his eyes. They were enraged and desperate, seeking for an outlet of release. 

“What’s the matter with me?” She began upon pushing herself up to her feet, “What’s the matter with ya! You gave our money away! That was our food! There was enough for mom to get her own chickens!” 

The more she spoke, the louder she got, and then, Harley began to sob. Again, she reached for him and Nick, despite having the ability to, did not back away. 

“Yer useless! A waste! A scum!” Many profanities left her mouth in that minute, Harley couldn’t even begin to understand half of them, but she couldn’t find it in herself to truly care. All she saw was red. And it wasn’t the kind of red that calmed her. It wasn’t Pamela. The kind of red she’d witnessed was one of wrath. 

“You can do better than that!” Nicholas screamed over her crying when she struck him in the chest, “You’re punchin’ like a lousy woman!” 

Then, Harley wasn’t. 

She punched like a knight--a warrior because Nick slipped to his knees, coughing and gasping with a raised hand of surrender. 

“Enough!” He moved to fend for his face, afraid that she was to strike him again. But the contact never came, not even when he opened his eyes fully to glance at her. 

Through the many tears, she found herself backed into another corner, as far away from Nick as she could. 

When their eyes met, there was only one thing Harley could whisper: “I hate you. With everythin’ in me, I hate you.” 

“I understand,” Nick nodded, although it was slow and weak. His hand was still resting--grasping at his chest, and Harley felt somewhat proud to see a huge man like him hurting because of a girl like her, “He wanted to take my cock, you know?” 

Briefly, she thought those words didn’t come from Nick. But clearly, he was looking at her expectantly, awaiting an answer. 

“What?” 

“The man I owed,” He coughed again, “wanted to take my cock off.” 

“He should have. Not like there’s one to take,” Harley sniffled and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, “I don’t even know why ya wear pants. Maybe slip into a dress tomorrow mornin’?” 

“You not gonna ask why?” 

Rolling her eyes, Harley did what he wanted, “Why?” 

“He’s a rich fellow with a wife,” The blonde could already sense where this story was going, which only further increased her hatred for him, “I saw the wife--and she wore so many necklaces. It was dark, but they were shining so bright, I thought nobody would see. So when she left the tavern, I seized the opportunity. I jumped from around the corner--and let me tell you, I thought I had it! But then, her husband came rushing out and drew his sword.” 

“I wish this ended differently,” Harley interrupted but Nick didn’t acknowledge it. 

Instead, he pointed in between his legs with a dry chuckle, “I thought I was gonna lose my little friend that day. Anyway, he asked me why he should let me keep it. I told him he shouldn’t, but then he reminded me that no woman would want me, that without a cock to my name, I was a useless nobody,” Harley wasn’t that stunned to see that Nick was finding humour in all this as he laughed louder,”So, I told him I would get him money. The plan was, of course, to run away after that. But then, he said my name. He said your mother’s name, Barry’s name and your name. He named all of you.”

Harley swallowed.

“And so I did what I had to do. Forgive me, there will be no food on the table for a while. But this house will remain filled with people,” Nick yawned and moved to rest his head against the floor sleepily, “And my cock.” 

//

As Pam stood alone, surrounded by flowers in her garden, a sudden sense of loneliness began to creep up her spine. Usually, Harleen’s presence would melt it away, her joyous and curious voice would ring out so loud, and Pam wouldn’t mind it. 

Calming, was what it was. 

And although Harley was far from calm in a sense that she could not sit still for longer than five minutes, her presence brought tranquil ease. 

For the past two days though, Pamela went without it. On the third day, it became difficult. Bruce offered to accompany her to the garden, and as kind as that was, she’d said no. Sir Bruce wasn’t Harleen Quinzel. Of course, he respected her garden and need for space more, but there was something captivating in the way Harley interacted with things. How she touched the roses, its thorns and petals, and how she looked at the tulips, completely engrossed like nothing else mattered. 

With a final stroke against the daffodils, the redhead pushed herself up and only left after whispering beautiful words to them. Ones that held appreciated and utter adoration. Nothing else was needed. 

“Welcome back, your Grace,” Bruce bowed as soon as Pam returned inside. He always waited. 

The most loyal man she knew…

“Is there anything you can enlighten me with? Any news?” Pam asked upon beginning to march back towards her chambers. 

Bruce took that as his cue to follow, “Nothing, your Grace. I’m afraid I was out of any discussions while awaiting your return.” 

“Ah, I’m certain there will be things to discuss,” As she said it, Pam didn’t doubt it for a second. Being a royal…it came with sacrifices. There was always way for logic and understanding, but Jack was a firm believer that no woman possessed such traits. 

If she could only teach him…

That would be the only form of entertainment she would ever need. 

When they made it to the top of the staircase, Bruce tugged the door open and stepped aside to allow Pam through first. But when she set foot inside the room, she wished it was Bruce who witnessed it first. 

“Pam--your Grace!” Selina was up on her feet faster than their most trusted horse, “I--I’m--it’s not--” 

A conclusion to her sentence never came as Pam unravelled the scene that lay in front of her. Rows of jewellery-- _Pamela’s_ jewellery, rings and necklaces, scattered all over the floor. It appeared like her box had been broken into, torn apart, clawed at with sharp nails. 

And it seemed like that assumption wasn’t very far from the truth.

Selina clutched the jewellery box tighter, almost desperately attempting to shove it aside from view, but Pam’s eyes had been too fast. 

“What is it that you’re doing with that?” The redhead pointed at the _everything_ within the room. 

“Selina?” Bruce raised his voice as he stepped in, and Pam turned to face him with a raised brow, utterly confused as to how he came to know the woman’s name. 

“I’m…I was cleaning,” Selina was eventually able to respond but even then she sounded doubtful. 

“If that’s true,” Which it evidently wasn’t, “What are my rings doing on your fingers?” 

Caught in her lie, Selina set the wooden box down and sighed. That was the first time Pam had seen her so embarrassed, face flushed and almost redder than her hair.

“Were you stealing from me, Selina?” Somehow, despite the fear that the possible answer might bring, Pamela found it in herself to question her.

And as Pam stared at her first ever true friend, no words were needed to seal the lie.

“I’m sorry,” Was all Selina could whisper with her head bowed down. Bruce stepped behind the raven haired woman now, already sensing what Pamela was finding the strength to say. And thank all gods he did, because she wasn’t prepared to say it twice. 

Straightening her back, Pam cleared her throat, “I want her escorted off these grounds.” 

Hastily, Bruce placed a hand against Selina’s shoulder, his eyes disheartened and low. She didn’t squirm underneath his touch, but appeared rather comfortable. It was Pam’s gaze that had her trembling, but not entirely. 

“Pamela, you don’t have to do this,” Selina braved to reason, “What’s a few rings to you? You can afford any piece you please.” 

“If you think it’s the missing jewellery that has me shaken up, I am beginning to suspect you don’t know me at all,” Pam stepped aside from the door to leave Bruce and the woman enough space to squeeze past, “I trusted you for the longest time and you betrayed me. For how long, I don’t know. I would rather avoid thinking about that.” 

When Selina opened her mouth to murmur something, Pam raised a hand. Then, she smiled, not a smile that reflected happiness. No. Instead, it was a radiant goodbye as they began to part ways. 

“You spent a lot of your life around me. It’s time I set you free.” 

//

“Ouch! Not so rough!” Selina complained as Bruce’s armour dug into her back, “Usually, I wouldn’t complain but this scenario--is just awful!” 

When she spoke, Bruce could only come up with one response, which was to tighten his hold around her as they navigated through the halls of the castle, “Do you know how lucky you are?” 

She turned to stare at him, completely dumbfound with wide eyes, “Have you lost your mind? How is being caught stealing from a royal lucky? Luck would be to get away with it--ouch!”

“You’re lucky it was the Princess who caught you!” Bruce explained and rounded another sharp corner, “Do you know what they would have done to you had it been anyone else?” 

Shrugging, Selina continued to shuffle forward and sped up her pace, desperate to free herself from his clutches. But Bruce was a muscular man, and she was certainly no stranger to what lay beneath the armour. 

“I would rather not think about it,” She admitted when they finally made it outside. Selina kept her head held high as they wandered past the other guards, deciding if she was to go down, she was to do so with finality. 

“No, thinking about it is exactly what you are going to do,” Bruce led her through the open air now, “if Jack was to catch you, you would be missing a few fingers. Maybe even an entire hand.” 

Smirking, she attempted to turn around, but he was sudden to force her face the right way, “I just wanted to say I could make usage of my other hand, although I know you prefer my right one--ouch! Okay, no need to push!”

“Now, if King Arthur walked in on you stealing-” 

“But he didn’t, so your point makes no sense,” She told him with a grin, but her brows furrowed, “And if it was the Queen, I would never hear the end of it.”

“Oh, you certainly would,” Bruce corrected as they made it past the wall that separated the castle and the town, “I’m not certain how, but blood would be shed.”

“Lovely, now would you unhand me?” 

Bruce did, though it wasn’t because she’d asked--he needed to go back. He had a duty, and Selina clearly failed hers. 

“Now go home, Selina,” He told, and she was positive she’d never see that type of hurt beneath his eyes again, “I thought you were better than this.” 

Bruce turned around and walked away, leaving her standing there like she was some sort of stray cat, with no place to officially call home.

//

When Harley saw her another week later, Pamela wasn’t walking like she usually would when they’d see each other in the morning. The redhead almost broke into a run, her pace showing no signs of stopping until their hands met. 

And when they did, Harley didn’t flinch, though the sensation could be compared to a lighting bolt. She stood firm, her fingers intertwining with Pam’s tightly with no intention to ever let go. Briefly, her skin tingled, and Harley noted that the sensation would course through her whenever Pamela’s skin would collide with her own in a gentle battle of adoration. 

“I’ve missed you,” The redhead murmured and gave Harley’s hand another squeeze as if to check if she was real. 

“I’m here now, Red,” Harley smiled, nice and soft and pure. Everything that Pamela was to her. 

“My eyes couldn’t ever witness a better image,” Tugging her slightly, Pamela twisted around to begin their lengthy walk to the gardens, “I waited for you every time the sun had risen. Briefly, I thought you would never come back to me.” 

“I will always come back to you,” There was a sense of finality in her voice and Harley was certain that she’d never uttered more true words than these. 

“What happened?” Pam asked after a pause. 

Shrugging, Harley sighed, “My father happened. He isn’t a good man.” 

And that was all she was willing to give. Thankfully, Pamela seemed to get the message and silenced herself, refraining from any other questions that might being Harley discomfort. 

“If you ever need anything, Harleen, you can talk to me. I have two ears and all my hands, I can do many things for you. Anything you ever need. All you need to do is ask,” Pam sat down onto one of the wooden benches, staring at the nicely shaped bushes in front of her. 

Harley followed and dunked down as well, taking a seat near the Princess, “All is okay. I promise,” She lied through gritted teeth. One thing about Harleen was…she was extremely talented in keeping things to herself. And although Pamela could read, Harley was a closed book with a lock.

Remaining silent was easy. It was safe. 

And talking…well that required effort. 

And this Kingdom had many ears. 

“I believe you,” Pam smiled, “My offer will always stand.” 

For a long time, Harley simply looked at her, doing nothing more and nothing less.

“I don’t think you could ever be Queen,” She blurted out, her mouth moving quicker than her brain. 

Raising a brow, Pam leaned back and straightened her posture--not defensively, but in a way that told Harley she was curious as to what that meant. 

“You’re too generous, too kind,” Harley clarified with a low chuckle, “Most royals are ruthless and people fear them. When you’re nice, it gets mistaken for weakness, your Grace. The crown would be snatched from your head in to time.” 

“Too generous?” Pamela wasn’t asking, instead, she was letting the words sink in before speaking up again, “But someone has to love them, right?” 

“The people?” Harley asked and the redhead nodded. 

“Someone has to love the people,” She confirmed, “They need to be looked after, need to be nurtured,” She was staring at the rose bushes in front of her now, “Because then, they would wither away.” 

“Like flowers,” Harley concluded, earning another nod from Pam. 

“Exactly,” she hummed in response, “Have you ever seen what happens to a flower when it isn’t watered for a long time? Have you ever seen what happens to a person when they don’t receive a piece of bread in weeks? It’s all the same image, Harleen. These people are my flowers.” 

“And you love flowers more than anything.”


	6. Chapter 6

It was the warmest day of the month, and Harley found herself struggling to breathe as she swayed from one side to the other, some of the water from the bucket spilling over the rim while she carried it home.

Briefly, Harley twisted her head over her shoulder to glance at him and jealousy immediately took over, “Eddie, how is it fair that ya aren’t tired and sweatin’,”

The man shrugged and held two of his bucket upright, which was something Harley struggled to do, “Endurance from trying out to be a guard.”

“How did that go for ya?” She laughed upon the realization that it was her turn to poke some fun at him.

“Well, as you can tell, I’m no guard,” Ed hung his head in shame, “I suppose I’m better at other things.”

“You sure are, and don’t let nobody tell ya otherwise!”

“I’m good at noticing, you know?” He began with a sly grin, “And I couldn’t help but notice you leaving your home every morning, only to return in the later hours of the day.”

Harley laughed--although the sound came out nervous--. Nobody knew about her and Pam, and she certainly had no intent on changing that. “Well, ya know, a girl does things!”

“A girl is secretive,” Eddie corrected with a chuckle of his own, “All I have to say to you, is avoid getting in trouble. It follows you like the plague.”

“Don’t say that!” In her antics, she almost tripped over a rock, stumbling backwards against the man’s chest. Luckily, he broke her fall and saved them both the trouble of returning to the well.

“Why not? I’m no liar.”

“Well, you should be,” With that, Harley found herself walking faster, away from his gaze and more importantly his words.

Ed didn’t bother catching up to her and instead focused on his own pace. When the blonde returned home, the inside was void of her family.

Praise to all gods.

She thought while setting the bucket down.

When the house was empty, it was one of the only times Harley could truly breathe. There was no place for bickering, her father’s gaze was also absent, what more did she need? Nothing. Nothing at all--

“Now what in hell’s name-” Harley glanced at the piece of paper on the wooden table. ‘Harleen’ was written in curved lettering across the front of the envelope. She couldn’t remember a time where she loved her name as much as she did now. Tearing it open, she began to read out loud--because she could.

She could read!

“My dearest Harleen,” She began with a smile, her teeth showing, “meet me at my heart-- the place that means everything to me. You know it well. I need a helping hand and one is there for you too, should you ever need it.”

There was no doubt that Pamela was the one behind these words. The font was elegant and curved, each letter as neat as the one before It. And most importantly, the words were kind. And nobody was as kind as the Princess. So once Harley had slipped into the dress Pam provided for her mere days ago, she was on her way, the letter still tightly clutched between her fingers.

Upon her arrival, the guards stepped aside and allowed her in. They were already familiar with her face as Harleen visited almost every day. It became concerning when she in fact, didn’t come. Not the other way around. Funny, how life moved, so suddenly and unexpectedly.

This time though, Pam wasn’t there to greet her, but one of the guards informed her that the lady was sitting in her garden. Harley didn’t doubt that, so she took off toward that direction, a wide smile cast upon her face when her eyes fell upon Pam about ten minutes later.

“Hello,” Harley greeted before taking a seat on the wooden bench beside her.

Pam turned to her and smiled--although this one had been different, that much Harley could tell. It wasn’t radiating its usual joy. There were hints of something else…sadness. So much sadness in one smile.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t a smile supposed to display happiness, your Grace?” The blonde shifted forward as Pam uncrossed her legs, nodding.

“Yes, you are absolutely correct, and believe me, I’m nothing but happy when I get the fortunate chance to see you,” Pam explained as she tightened her smile.

Harley was…she thought of herself as slightly crazed. She wasn’t all ‘there’ in her head, not at all times anyway. But reading people…she was crazy good at that. And although she couldn’t read books all that well, reading people was much more complex--and she was astounding at it. There were many more letters in their eyes and smiles, in their movement and words. People were books in other languages. And Harley felt like she could read them all, from beginning to end. From the very start of their story to its conclusion.

“I don’t doubt that,” Harley told before her eyes softened, and as it turned out, that was all Pam needed to crack, “But are you okay?”

“My first true friend betrayed me,” The words were out before she could stop them, it seemed, because the next thing Pam did was widen her eyes as if though she was surprised by what she spoke.

And Harley wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. To betray Pamela? It seemed like a privilege not many possessed. A privilege she would never abuse.  
“I’m sorry,” Harley shifted a little closer, nice and slow, treating Pamela like a frightened animal that was afraid of the slightest contact of adoration and humanity. And maybe, such comparison was true.

Maybe, the Princess was frightened of those things? Not once had Harley seen Pam display any forms of public affection towards her parents or brother, or the other way around. She’d never seen the redhead hugged--not like they held Jack anyway.

She had never witnessed the King and Queen publicly praise Pamela like they did Jack.

The boy was on the receiving end of everything glorious, it seemed. And Harley couldn’t be sure about Pam, though she truly wanted to be.

“No need for that,” The redhead cleared her throat, “I suppose you received my letter.”

Nodding, Harley smiled curiously, her eyes searching for any hints within Pam’s expression, “You said you needed a helping hand.”

Pam was mirroring her actions, “I do. And although you have helped me a great deal by coming to my aid when I most needed it, I figured this exchange could do us both some good.”

Harley was watching her intensely now with wonder, “What is it, Pamela?”

“You can say no,” Pam began, “I want nothing more than for you to be comfortable around me--and with me.”

“I am, truly and sincerely. Comfortable is how you make me feel, I could not think of another word better than that,” Harley noted that Pam’s hand was incredibly close to her own, and deep in her gut, a foreign feeling had spilled across her body once again, only appearing when the redhead was present.

It was evident that Pam was glad--and possibly even relieved--to hear that in the way that she smiled and slumped down, her posture becoming more natural though still beautiful. Just not so uptight, that was all.

“She betrayed me when she had been working for me--with me,” She made the correction quickly with a slight shake of her head, “And then she stole from me. I had no choice but to let her go, I didn’t say anything else to her after that. But now, I need a helper.”

Harley could see where this was going.

“And as I’ve heard, you also need help. You have told me that the reason no person is willing to take you is because of your father, correct?”

Harley nodded once.

“Well, I don’t care about any of that. I care about you,” Pam told her simply and softly, like there had been no truer words to be spoken. And Harley believed her. “And if you wish it, you can feed your family through fairness. I know you seek no charity from me, so I am not going to offer it to you. What I am offering, is a fair place where you can provide for your family.”

Harley wasn’t sure what to say--or where to even begin. ‘Thank you’ was just at the top of her tongue, bit it wouldn’t leaver her throat no matter how desperately she tried.

Then, Pam was looking at her, both frightened and confused, “Harleen? I would like to apologise if I have offended you--that was not my intention-”

Before any more words could be exchanged, Harley leapt forward, her arms wrapping around Pamela’s tender frame as tightly as they could.

“Thank you--thank you!” She murmured between soft sniffles, her hands clawing at all corners, edges and dips against Pam’s back. The redhead leaned back, and Harley was certain she had upset her somehow.

But there was none of that, because Pam leaned right back in…

To wipe her tears away.

//

After Harleen left, Pam had every intention to return to her chambers, although that soon turned out to be difficult as Jack forced her to stop in her tracks. He swayed from side to side, grinning, and Pamela was no fool, she didn’t need to smell his breath to know that he was drunk.

“My favourite sister!” He greeted, his words slurred and messy as they left his lips.

“I’m your only sister, Jack,” Pam rolled her eyes and attempted to brush past him, but he stood in her way yet again, his hand reaching out to grab her. If Pam hadn’t been there, Jack would now be on the marble floor, laying flat on his face. But he stumbled right against her, hands digging into her shoulders.

“I saw you…” He hummed while beginning to dance with her, “In the garden…”

Pam wanted nothing more than to move away, but his grip was tight, refusing to let her go--but at least he wasn’t hurting her, so maybe she could stay and talk to him before he made a fuss of things? Deciding on it, she squinted her eyes, “Is that so? What did you see?”

“You and that Harley girl!” A sadistic laugh escaped him and he threw his head back, “Pammy, did you get her a little emotional? That’s not nice. You shouldn’t be making girls cry.”

“I didn’t--”

“Fear not!” He interrupted and finally pushed himself back, “You might be next! Mother and father have some exceptional news for you.”

Evidently confused, Pam stepped back with furrowed brows. He was drunk…he could have been bluffing. It wasn’t rare for Jack to state things that made no sense when he had something heavy to drink. But that sane part of her that knew him well, was frightened.

“What is it that you mean?” Pamela grabbed Jack to turn him around.

Now facing her, Jack reached forward to caress her cheek, his rough fingers stroking her skin and turning it stony. She was cold--not because of how harsh his fingers felt, but because he wasn’t affectionate. He was merciless. He was never….this. Usually, his hand would strike her, not brush her like she was incredibly fragile.

Again, he laughed before shaking his head with a mere shrug, “You’re so pretty, Pammy. Don’t m-mind me, I’m drunk.”

“You should rest,” Pam suggested, not for this sake exactly. But it would certainly help her escape his strangely gentle clutches.

“Ah, what a wonderful idea,” Leaning in, his lips hovered above her forehead for a minute, before eventually he leaned down to press a kiss against her skin. Only then did Pam flinch with her eyes immediately falling shut, as if though to prepare for impact. But it never came.

Instead, Jack moved away with a small smile, releasing her fully, “have a good day, sister.”

With a final touch to her hair, Jack turned around and left, the sound of his shoes clicking against the marble flooring up until the moment he’d disappeared. Then, Pam inhaled sharply, allowing for her body to finally get some air. Whatever her brother spoke, Pam felt uneasy about it. What could he possibly have meant with that? Pamela was certain that this wasn’t one of his usual jokes. Of course, Jack’s tone had been humorous--but it always was. No matter the situation, he’d always try to be funny. So Pam didn’t doubt the sincerity of his words. Actually, she considered them to be honest, even with his drunken mind.

But why would she be the next to cry? What on earth did her father and mother have planned? Surely, it wasn’t something that would appeal to her, that much she could tell. Why else would they only inform Jack? Or was it just because she couldn’t be trusted with those news? Huffing, Pam straightened her back and returned to her room, immediately slipping into a lighter garment--all without Selina’s help. Because quite frankly, she didn’t need her.

She didn’t need a thief in her home.

She didn’t need her advice.

Didn’t need her ‘friendship’ either--

Pam shoved the jewellery box that rest next to her aside. It was still open, Pam hadn’t bothered herself to close it, not after Selina last touched it. And she decided she wouldn’t touch it for a while. Pam would allow for Selina’s memory to linger and live on for a little bit, before it would completely disappear.

Then, she would never think of that woman again.

Because damn her.

To hell.

//

It was early, the sun had barely risen, but Harleen found herself awake. Briefly glancing around the room, she noted that her family was still asleep. Barry was snoring---loudly and inconsiderately, while Nick had his heavy arm wrapped around Sharon, who seemed to be having the best sleep of her damn life.

Harley, on the other hand, could not quite relate. Yes, she’d slept. But her nerves were running high the entire night. She even woke up a couple of times in the late hours of the night, fearing that Pam had somehow changed her mind. And most importantly, Harley was petrified of disappointing the Princess.

There were many ways for her to, Harley didn’t need an entire night to come up with a mental list. All she required was a few minutes, and she had made up a list of more than fifty ways her services could end up in disappointment.

Firstly, she could show up late. Secondly, she could appear to be less than presentable--this would be her first time in the palace after all. Then, Pam could change her mind because Harley might have accidentally torn one of her dresses up--there were so many paths to letting the redhead down, and Harley didn’t want to step on a single one.

She wanted to be perfect! No flaws, no fuck ups, and certainly no disappointing Pamela.

So with that floating in her mind repeatedly, Harley slipped into the neatest, lightest dress she owned and left. As soon as she stepped outside, the chirping of the birds greeted her, as well as the morning’s sky of various colours with orange being the most prominent. It managed to remind her of Pam’s freckles that lay at the tip of her nose and cheeks.

For a long moment, the blonde failed to realize that she was smiling rather widely, and if it wasn’t for the passer-by grinning back at her, Harley was certain she would have forgotten to tone it down.

The long was quite lengthy to the castle walls, but she didn’t mind, especially not when she would get to see Pam so close up almost every day. Suddenly, her heart fluttered and her lips found themselves curving upward, inching into a smile without so much as a permission from her head. At this point, Harley’s body found a separate mind of its own, it seemed, because she had no control over what it did.

But of course, she decided to blame it on the early hours of the morning. It wasn’t often that she woke up at this time, but it was all worth it.

“You again?” One of the guards asked with a raised brow, but he was already moving aside to let her in.

“Yeah, it’s me again,” Harley’s tongue poked out from behind her lips, “Ye will be seeing me a lot more from now on. Enjoy it while ya can.”

Left speechless, he nodded, and Harley walked away, concluding that it was best to not spare him another look.

When she approached the main doors of the castle, she wasn’t expecting for Pam to greet her. But she certainly wasn’t expecting to see Bruce again.

Yet there he was, commanding for the guards to allow Harley inside.

“Good morning,” He nodded before readjusting his chin to hold it high, which was a respectable stance from his behalf, “Her Grace told me I was to expect you as soon as the sun rose.”

“Here I am, in the flesh,” Harley grinned before finally allowing herself to glance around. And as soon as she began, her jaw fell wide open. She was almost certain that it reached the marble floors, but luckily that didn’t happen to be the case. The ceiling was high, she couldn’t even reach it with the ladder that was stuck to her kitchen wall. And the flooring…she was certain her feet had never touched anything as luxurious as that. Natural light filled the hallways, the windows tall enough to allow most of the sunshine in. Harley felt…like she was living in a fairytale.

And to think that Pam got to experience this daily….Harley couldn’t imagine the girl to ever be unhappy.

Life here…it seemed easy. Good.

“It’s beautiful,” She found herself murmuring as Bruce took the lead, walking her across the grounds of the castle to what she though would be Pam’s room.

“Absolutely,” Bruce agreed with a nod, “I love this Kingdom more than anything.”

“And the Royals?” Harley asked while turning around briefly, “What about them? Ya love Pam, right? I mean, yer job is to protect her.”

“Of course,” Came another nod, “But there will always be a special place in my heart for Gotham.”

“Eh, if ya lived where I do, ye would change yer mind!” It was true. Gotham was nothing special for the common people. Not really, anyway. Or maybe it was just Harley’s family? They struggled to make a living for as long as she could recall, and she’d pinned it all on Nick. Which was true, by the way. All thanks to his reputation!

“I have a house outside the walls of the castle.”

Harley’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh, me too!”

She’d stated the obvious and chuckled, finding it a little amusing. But Bruce was yet to crack a grin--his face remained stony.

“Do ya ever smile?” Harley called out from behind him while he began to climb up a staircase. With a final glance around, she was right behind him, almost stepping on the heels of his iron boots.  
“Sometimes,” Bruce knocked on the door and it didn’t take long for it to open. Immediately, the dark haired man bowed, bending at the knee, “Good morning, your Grace.”

“No need for that, Bruce,” It was Pamela, Harley noted with her heart almost leaping out of her chest.

As he got up, Pam poked her head out of the room and a smile immediately graced her features, “Good morning, Harleen. Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for having me,” She wasn’t sure whether to bow too, but before she could decide, Pam was stepping back into her room and motioning for Harley to follow. Excusing Bruce for now, the redhead waved her inside and shut the door. Suddenly, the light air felt tense and suffocating.

Standing in a room with the Princess--inside her castle-- felt surreal. Harley was in her bedroom…the most personal room there was. And although Pam was doing her best to get her comfortable by inviting her to sit town, Harley found it near impossible to shake the intensity of the situation off her shoulders.

“Sit, Harleen.”

Unsure if that was a request or a command, the blonde stood frozen in place before eventually shaking her head.

“I’m--I’m here to do a job, Red. I’m not yer friend anymore.”

Pam’s brows furrowed, “Is that what this is about? You being afraid of being less than because you work here?”

There was no typical yes or no answer to her question, Harley realized, because it was much more complex that just that.

Pam was…in charge of her. She got to command, to ask and to control. Harley had none of that, she was merely here to comply to given orders.

And friends didn’t tend to other each other around. It was a compromise of things, wide discussions before coming to a two sided conclusion.

This…doing this, Harley realized, would just come from one side. Pam would ask, and Harley would deliver.

This was expected of her.

“I know what I signed up for, Red,” She began with a deep breath, “But yes, I’m scared. I don’t know of what exactly, but I’m terrified.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” Pam soothed and stood up to approach her, “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. You are here to help me. It Is you who is doing me a favour.”

“Ya offered because you knew my unfortunate situation,” Harley didn’t dare to step back as Pam shook her head.

“I know many people living in unfortunate situations,” Pam placed a comforting hand alongside Harleen’s arm, “I offered because I trust you.”

Then, out of the blue, Harley found herself speaking up again, spilling her entire mind to Pam like there was no tomorrow, “I’m scared of ruinin’ things.”

Pam’s eyes softened, “My dear, there is nothing you could ruin in this world even if you tried.”

With that hanging in the air, Pam approached the jewellery box and finally slammed it shut. Harley watched, analysing and observing each movement. The redhead moved slowly, she noted, her body hasty and hesitant, as if though she was in deep thought with many questions on her mind.

“I am to have breakfast now,” She announced, “Have you filled your stomach this morning?”

Harley shook her head and Pam stared at her, again with such pity that made the blonde wish she had been born blind.

“That is okay. Should you get hungry, we have a kitchen in the basement for our loyal workers to eat.”

Harley nodded, although the thought wasn’t really appealing to her at the minute. Hunger didn’t seem to strike when she was anxious, which was good--she didn’t want for her gut to empty its own contents.

Then, when Pam moved to the door, Harley called out after her, “Do I--do I just wait here?”

Nodding, the redhead smiled, “Yes, make yourself comfortable. Though do keep in mind that two individuals are under my orders to bring me a new dress for this evening. You are to open this door when they arrive and see them out.”

Harley saluted her playfully, which had extracted a giggle from Pam before she disappeared.

‘Make yourself comfortable’, Pam had told her. The bed looked comfortable, even the cushioned chair, or the seater, but Harley found herself frozen to the spot. It felt evil setting her butt against Pam’s furniture, especially not where she slept. Ultimately, she remained standing for a long moment, simply pacing around the large room--which, by the way, was the size of her entire house.

Speaking of which, Harley wondered if she could catch a glimpse of it through the window. Turned out, she couldn’t. But the majority of the towns landmarks were visible right from Pam’s room. There was the Church, its roof tall and pointed. Then the pub and the town’s well, both of which were beginning to fill up in the early hours of the morning.

Turned out, Harley could even see outside the walls that surrounded the town! She could look at the sea from a bedroom--something she’d always wanted. The water was amazingly blue, almost as bright as her eyes when the sun hit it just right.  
She wasn’t sure how long she was at the window for, but she assumed it was long enough once the knocking began.

“Come in!” Harley instructed rather weirdly, her voice commanding and questioning all at once. When the door opened, the boy gave her a sideways glance, his brows rising upward to meet his forehead.

“Selina isn’t here?” He asked while carefully bringing in the dress before laying it down against Pam’s bed. The girl behind him followed suit to examine the clothing, ensuring there wasn’t a single scratch, wrinkle or rip.

Harley shook her head, “I happen to be the replacement.”

The boy laughed, “Enjoy it. Her Majesty is great, you’re in good hands.”

And with that, they were gone.

Although her loneliness didn’t last very long, because in the next few minutes, another pair of steps graced her ears. It was Pam.

“Hello again,” She greeted hurriedly, “The dress?”

“Right here,” Harley pointed at the garment, “Do you need it?”

“Yes. On me,” Pam was quick to face away and begin unbuttoning the dress she wore. And that was when Harley felt all the heat of her body surge to her cheeks.

She had forgotten about this part of her job…helping Pam in and out of dresses, seeing her body more than any man could. Touching more skin than any other pair of hands. Shaking her head, Harley rushed to grab the dress and drape it over the wooden room divider near Pam, who appeared to be struggling with pulling the buttons the entire way down.

“Do--you need help?” Harley offered and Pam nodded.

Harley wasn’t sure which answer she wanted more. A yes or a no.

With a no, she couldn’t touch her.

But with a yes, her hands could wander against the redhead’s skin, brush it--

Get a grip!

“Of course, let me get that,” Harley tugged on the buttons against her back, her fingers careful to avoid touching her. But a single touch was inevitable.

It was bound to happen.

Always.

So when her thumb brushed against the ridge of Pamela’s shoulder, Harley’s first instinct was to flinch away in fear, not wanting to ruin her or mark any part of her. But somehow, even with that in mind, the blonde managed to stay put as she looked at her, looked at the skin, at her shoulder, at her neckline. At everything.

She looked at Pamela.

“You’re so pretty,” The words were out there in the world before she could stop them. And when Pamela turned around in her arms, she couldn’t help but close her eyes.

“I know,” The redhead whispered, “Although it means a lot coming from you.”

Once she felt Pam turn on her heel again, Harley was brave enough to blink her eyes open, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Chuckling, deep and rich, Pam shook her head, “It means you’re pretty too, Harleen.”

“I--” The entire word dictionary seemed to abandon her completely in that moment.

“It’s true,” Pam told, “But I do need this dress off and the other one on.”

Eventually, Harley was able to pull the dress all the way off. And as soon as the smock beneath Pam’s dress was revealed, she couldn’t help but sense a wave of disappointment hitting her. Though it outlined Pam’s figure almost perfectly, seeing it…well without anything, would be a much better view.

What is wrong with you!

Once Pam slipped out of the dress, she remained clothed, although there was an obvious lack of layers. It wasn’t long before the door burst open again after a sequence of knocks, and there was another dress---no, Harley counted another four.

Then, when Harley helped Pam slip into the second fit, Lillian Isley made her presence known. Immediately, the blonde halted and bowed, her fingers stopping their trail alongside Pam’s lower back.

The Queen had her brows raised, “Pray tell, where has Selina vanished?”

“She no longer works here,” Pamela cleared her throat and Harley could sense the redhead’s back tensing beneath her fingertips.

Lillian nodded, seemingly deciding not to make Selina’s sudden disappearance a discussion point, “No matter. We have more significant things to discuss.”

When Harley finished buttoning up the other dress, Pamela turned to face her mother, “Yes, and we could begin by discussing why is it that I am forced into so many dresses today?”

“Can a mother not treat her daughter?” Lillian scoffed, and Pam pulled a tight smile.

“She certainly can, although said mother doesn’t tend to do that very often.”

“You are a princess, that’s true,” The Queen hummed while eyeing the dress sideways, “But your elevated status does not mean you get everything you desire.”  
Pam sighed with a curt nod, “I am aware. Is there a reason why you’re here?”

With a single look, Harley understood that she was to help Pam slip out of this dress and into another yet again. It was a repetitive cycle, but the blonde began to feel invisible as the two women bickered back and forth. Which in all honesty, wasn’t all that terrible.

She wouldn’t have to endure wary glances from the Queen, or Pam’s kind gaze. Although in truth, she’d began to miss it.

“I’m helping you pick a dress,” Lillian stood up to approach the many pieces that were draped against Pam’s bed, “You make many wrong decisions, Pamela. I won’t allow this to be another one.”

Harley followed the woman’s gaze, noting the way her eyes seemed to rest against the white and green dress.

Now, green was certainly Pam’s colour, so there had been no fault in Lillian’s subtle choice.

“I like this one,” The woman told, “It’s nice on the eyes, certain areas are…revealing. It can go a long way. Make a wise decision.”

With that, Lillian decided to leave the room, not leaving enough time for Pamela to construct a witty response.

“My sincerest apologies, my little rose, she tends to ruin the setting quite a bit.”

Little rose.

Harley swallowed, her throat suddenly dry and tight, “N-no--not at all.”

She wasn’t certain if Pamela had meant to call her that out loud---she couldn’t be sure. But she wanted to be. Somehow, Pamela referring to her other than by name felt…strangely intimate and close.

Like she was more than just Harley.

Like she’d been important and unique.

Not an ordinary thing. Not just some town girl.

“Mother is right,” Pam murmured after some time, “The green dress looks wonderful. I do feel like avoiding it just to spite her, but a woman must look presentable. For what, though? I couldn’t be any less certain.”

It was the life of a women, to be less sure than the men, less worthy than them too. But Harley made her feel…powerful. Strong.

Like she wasn’t some rag to be thrown around. Like Pamela could stand upright.

“I think you look absolutely beautiful,” Harley concluded after she’d helped her step into the green dress.  
Pamela nodded. Harley was all the confirmation she seemed to need.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, had to re-upload this chapter

Pam waited at the back gate, which of course was usually under strict orders to be guarded. But all it took was a single chat with Bruce to get him to lead the guards away for a few moments, leaving her enough time to sneak out.

Where?

She wasn’t sure yet, Harleen was to decide that, although the blonde had no idea Pamela had the bright idea to leave the castle’s grounds. Pam did inform her to meet at the back at exactly this hour. And just when the redhead began to doubt Harley could find her way here, blonde locks appeared from behind a corner of the stone wall.

A grin had plastered itself across Pam’s face as soon as she lay eyes on her, “Good morning, Harleen.”

Harley returned it, just as gleaming and intoxicated, “Hi, Pam. Do you mind if I ask why is it that we are outside? I don’t think it’s safe for ya out here.”

She was right. And that was exactly why Pam had multiple layers on, all dark and hooded, ensuring that nobody was to recognise her from afar, “Don’t fret. I will explain on the way. Will you show me way to town?”

Nodding, Harley pointed behind herself, “Anything for ya, my lady,” She teased with a grin and began their long walk.

“The daffodils you gifted me are blooming beautifully,” The redhead announced contently. It seemed like Harley was good with picking out plants, and Pam was excellent at nurturing them. Maybe her garden required to sets of hands after all.

“Glad to hear it!” Harley beamed, “My ma has some in the back behind the house. But without rain they die. We can’t exactly waste water on flowers right now, red. I know how much ya care for ‘em.”

“No, I understand,” Pam felt the sudden urge to look at her, so she did, turning sharply on her heel, “You should get water first, little rose. So you can bloom. And as I mentioned before, should you ever need help, my hand is out here for you to take.”

“Ya helped me plenty, I’m doin’ just fine.”

Harley waved her off, but Pamela wasn’t convinced. Of course, Pam made sure to pay her generously, but Harley had a family. And last she heard, the blonde was the only one with a stable job.

“Harleen--”

“Tell me why we are going all the way out here,” Harley interrupted suddenly, urging Pam to shift conversations.

And it was fine. She’d understood.

As for the answer Harley was searching for, Pamela had it.

“You spent so much time around me--around my life, I wanted to change that,” She admitted, but all she got in return was a puzzled look from Harley.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“I want to learn about you, Harleen,” She tried a different approach--a more direct one, “What is it that makes you, well, you. What is it that you do during the morning, day and night. I want to be part of that, just like you have been part of my mornings and evenings.”

“Ya wanna be part of my day?” Harley asked with raised brows, evidently not having prepared herself for such a shift in positions.

When Pam nodded, the blonde just sighed and shrugged, “I’m not very interesting, red. It’s nothin’ like yer life. I don’t try on dresses, or tend to a garden--or drink my tea outside--or take a bath in flower petals. I do none of that.”

“Then show me what it is that you do,” Pam pleaded, genuinely wanting this. She wanted to balance them out. She’d ached for Harleen to feel important and similar to her. Pam wanted to know she cared--that she was intrigued by her and more.

“Ya wanna know what I do for fun?” Harley questioned once they’d finally made it out of the long grass, approaching the town from a shady corner--but that was the safest way in for Pam. At least nobody would see her that way.

The redhead nodded.

“Okay,” She hummed in response, “I go on walks with Eddie--he’s my friend, and oh so clever. Then, I help my ma out with the washin’, I clean the cramped house, which is the size of yer room. And at the end of the day, I fight with my pa, always beggin’ him to do better.”

“Why do you hate your father?”

Harley chuckled--almost coldly, “Why do ya hate yer mother?”

Pam paused, stopping in her tracks. But then, she smiled.

“Numerous reasons, Harleen. None that I’m willing to discuss, however.”

“Ah well,” Harley shrugged, “My pa is a thief. He steals for a livin’--from people. Whoever he sees is an immediate target.”

When she turned to look at the blonde, Pam could easily note that she was tired. Whether it was tired from hiding what her family was, or in any other way, didn’t matter. Because all Pamela wanted was for the girl to rest.

“Have you ever rested a day in your life?”

Harley was forced to shrug again, “I dunno--I’m not sure, red.”

And before she could think about the question some more, Harley was dragged off towards a tavern--the best one in the entire town. Widening her eyes, she shook her head, “Woah--I don’t have a pretty penny on me.”

Pam shook her head, smiling, “It’s on me.”

“Isn’t it dangerous for ya? People might recognise who you are.”

But despite it, the Princess continued to tug her forward, “You put yourself in bigger dangers for me. It’s only fair I catch up.”

“Pam, they don’t serve wine!”

“Then I’m not drinking, but you, my dear, get anything your heart desires.” With that, they made it inside. Nobody turned to look at them-which Pam was grateful for-and the chatter continued to go undisturbed.

Somehow, pushing through the crowds of people, Pam managed to hand Harley the small bag of coins she kept in the pocket of her cloak. She’d tightened her hood before entering, but it almost slipped off her head anyway.

“Go to the back!” The blonde yelled over numerous voices that belonged to both men and women.

Pamela nodded and merged with the crowd, navigating across the clumped, sweaty bodies until eventually, an empty table came into view. By the time she sat down, her eyes caught a glimpse of a near fight, a spilled beverage, and a collapsed candle.

Utter chaos, was what Pam would describe it as if she was asked. But luckily, nobody was there to ask such a thing.

It wasn’t long before Harley returned, with not one--but two large cups of beer? Pam guessed. It sure smelled like it.

“Harleen--I said I didn’t want--”

“And I said I didn’t want any help from ya, but here we are. I suppose we can both hate one another, hmm?” Harley placed the drink down in front of her, pushing it forward, wordlessly encouraging Pam to at least try it.

“I could never hate you.”

“Ya would be surprised,” Harley chuckled, “Now drink. Ya paid for this, I couldn’t only treat myself.”

“I have never tried such drink,” Pam admitted while she leaned down to smell it and immediately drew back with a scrunched nose.

Harley found it endearing, but she’d never admit that out loud.

“First time for everythin’.”  
And that was how her vision turned blurry by the end of the evening. Pam couldn’t count how many empty cups sat in front of them even if she tried. And she’d tried to, of course. But Harley was extremely distracting, making her laugh almost every second of the day.

“Harleen, I need you to stop,” The redhead commanded, deciding to attempt and count them again.

“But why!” The woman cried beside her, poking her side insistently.

“Because I am focusing,” Pam tapped every mug she counted, but then Harley interfered yet again. With a hand intertwining with her own to push it aside, Pam sighed, though she couldn’t really stay irritated for long. The warmth of Harley’s palm against her knuckles felt warm, like it belonged there.

So Pam remained, not moving her hand away.

“I think ya had one too many glasses, no?” The blonde giggled with a hiccup interrupting suddenly.

Pam smiled at that, her own vision blurry and hazy all over, “I suppose so. W-we should stop.”

Nodding, Harley pushed herself up from the table, “Come on, Pammy! There’s so much more ta do!”

And Pamela couldn’t find it in herself to tell her no. She didn’t want to. Her body and mind--the entirety of her wanted Harley. To follow her, to walk with her, to be near her. To simply exist with her at this time.

Before she could get a word out, Harley had Pam in her clutches already, jerking her out of the tavern with a loud laugh and numerous goodbye’s. Kindly, though not so gently, Harley made sure to tug Pam’s hood all the way down.

It was relieving to know that even in her drunken state, Harley was still careful for her.

“Where are we going?” The Princess raised a brow before squinting to get a better look at their surroundings. The sun was setting, although it was much lighter outside than it had been back at the tavern. Those candles didn’t do a very great job at keeping the place lit.

Harley shrugged, but her grin never disappeared, “I dunno, Pam,” She replied truthfully, “I know one thing though.”

When Pam turned to her expectantly, Harley continued.

“I wanna go somewhere far with ya. Like outta here. Where ya don’t have to wear this,” She lightly poked the cloak, “A place where ya don’t gotta hide. Just you and me.”

Suddenly, Pamela felt her chest tighten right before her heart stammered. It was a new sensation, but one she was willing to welcome with open arms.

“Why?” She managed to ask, red locks pouring out from beneath the hood.  
As attentive as ever, Harley’s eyes softened as she reached for her hair, using her thumb to gather it and push it back into hiding, “Because yer the best thing to happen to me.”

“Then it must mean you don’t have a lot of good things happen to you, H-Harleen.”

“Oh, how right you are,” Harley nodded, “But I swear it--to all the gods, that you, Pammy, are a treasure every man would kill for.”

She wasn’t sure how, when or why, but Harley was insistent on Pam letting go of her arm for a moment.

“I will catch ya if you fall,” The blonde promised, clearly having a better tolerance for this kind of thing, although it wasn’t by a lot.

None of the two women were capable of walking in a straight line, but Pam was certainly trying. And failing, which explained the tight grip she had on Harley’s arm.

And she would’ve continued to have such support if it wasn’t for a man interrupting them in their shenanigans. One wrong, drunken turn into a strange alley, and it seemed like the whole world was against them. Though evidently, nor Pam or Harley seemed to particularly care.

As was shown by repetitive laughing.

“What’s so funny? You seen a jester or somethin’?” The bearded man asked and opened his arms wide to greet them.

That was when Harley let go of Pam and grinned, “No, my ma would say I look like one, but red here disagrees!”

Pamela had her head down, although keeping herself collected was getting rather difficult. She could do it if Harley kept her mouth shut, but it seemed that the vast consumption of beer had the girl spitting words out like she’d been a book.

“A little bird told me that you two ladies are drunk,” He took another step forward and Harley almost doubled over to gag.

“If ya speak to birds, I think yer the one that’s drunk here, sir.” She shot back and Pam lost it, breaking out into a series of giggles beneath her cloak.

That wasn’t amusing. Really. It wasn’t. It was just the beer that had her mind all twisted up. Pam tried to straighten herself, setting her eyes on Harley. The man was getting irritatingly close, and she’d certainly began to feel uncomfortable. The same could be said for the blonde’s stance. She was hunched over, and not because she felt sick--that much Pam could tell because Harley didn’t fail to reassure her at least ten times that her gut could hold everything inside.

He simply laughed, “Alright. How about you let me show you a pleasant time? The two of you and me, hmm? How does that proposal rest?”

Immediately, Harley scrunched her face and raised a hand in front of him, “It doesn’t rest well on my ears.”

And just like the many men Pam had seen, this one too could not take a no for an answer. But when he reached for Harley, expecting to get his fingers beneath her dress, the blonde struck him with a---Pam’s eyes widened.

“A rock?” The redhead asked, and Harleen was already on her feet heading toward her. Worst of all though, she was laughing.

“Go, go go!” Harley cried with a chuckle, pushing Pam away first to the end of the slim street. The redhead did as she was told and ran, though she wasn’t doing a very good job. At first, she’d stumbled, and then she actually fell.

But before her knees could collide with the stone floor, Harley had her arms wrapped around her waist, “I said I’d catch ya if you fall!”

Another laugh, and then Pam turned around.

The man was back on his legs and with a single shake of his head to collect his vision, he was jogging over to them.

“Oh, trouble!” Harley squeaked with an animated grin, only to slip out of her shoes in her run.

Pam noticed, “I will spare you a pair tomorrow!”

They didn’t stop running, not even when Harley was left barefoot, nor when they merged with various crowds of the townspeople exiting pubs, taverns and markets. With the sky now more blue and grey than orange, they were able to outrun him and settle into the darkness.

Harleen almost lost sight of her, but Pam grabbed her by the collar and tugged her into the second nearest alley she could find. Luckily, this one had been silent, the only voices coming from the main street.

With her heart still fighting violently in her chest, Pam attempted to even out her breathing. But with Harley this close, doing so was impossible.

“Harley…” Pam forgot to count her breaths, “May I kiss you?”

There was no verbal answer.

What came through was much better.

Harley shoved her body closer, one hand wrapping around Pam’s waist while the other positioned itself against her hip to steady her. Pamela didn’t wait. Instead, she threaded her hands in blonde hair and met blue eyes. Only then did they come together impossibly closer, eventually finding their inevitable.

With her lips clashing against a pair she thought was the most wonderful, Pam forgot how to breathe. She didn’t need to.

Because Harley was her new-found air.

And around her, Pam breathed and lived in different ways.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated, thanks for reading :)


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